This Poem Wrote Itself
This poem got up and wrote itself
While I was fast asleep
This poem soon enough found out
It had no need for me
Guess it felt it needed to get
A few things off its chest
Wandering around the halls of poetry
While I was snoring in my bed
This poem made its planned escape
From the clutches of my mind
With a basic need that it must feed
On the artistry of rhyme
Taking full advantage of
My unconsciousness
As I lay here dreaming
In my nightly world of bliss
Yes, this poem wrote itself
Without the benefit of me
Proving it can do a better job
When I am sound asleep
Copyright © Mike Hauser | Year Posted 2016
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