A Feisty Me
Scrabbled words
in my face,
I don't know how
to phrase.
I run outside
to ask for hint,
from the chickens
in a tent.
They don't answer
nor bother,
but I'm sure they
never falter,
because they
know how to fight
though they are
not might.
I go inside
and start the write,
the feisty word of life:
"fight"
that's the start
of my thrill track
of this crazy world
where I stuck.
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