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Leave My Feet In Poetry Now Firmly Planted I tried, compose a revelation poem about truth Did that in earnest, in my wild but honest youth But with mind fighting a stone wall nothing came forth it was as if I fought as South against the North. My brain had shifted into a deep murky haze I was prisoner chained by a dark-cast craze Each dawn I rose against a grey, terrible front All my verses came out silly or rudely blunt Aggravating, torturous to the nth degree I gave it a go, took a vacation to flee Not a damn clever thing I tried seemed to work I ended up thinking am I fool and a jerk Failed, threw my hands up and said, to hell with it I cried out, had me a bad uncontrollable fit I took a short vacation to a white sand beach Seeking again, to my ran away muse to reach As the ocean waves into my soul did soft splash I ran around shopping spending loads of green-cash Soon I forgot about all by having good fun Rose each new dawn saluting the rising gold sun Eight days, my time was spent exploring deeper life Soon gone was any shred of hardship or dire strife That morn, I rose seeing sun's sweeter golden rays I discovered a much truer life in newer ways That very night I sat down with pen in my hand Out like magic beautiful words about this land And then in another poem sweet love of true youth Verses and verses slung about love and bold truth Then it hit me thus, my angel muse had return No more trashy stale words would I have to now burn My muse told me she left to a hard lesson teach She came back not because of words I did beseech She came back when I had forgotten to her so love So she left me to deal with dark world's push and shove. That cool night, I wrote a superb poem on true love. And if I were writing hand, muse is my dear glove. Swearing never again, to my muse take for granted I leave feet in poetry, now firmly planted. Robert J. Lindley, Rhyme Last edited by Tyr-Ziu Saxnot; Today at 10:14 AM.
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