A Poetic Plight
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A Poetic Plight
Poems never read, never shared
for no one cared
The heartaches, sorrow, despair
no one was there.
Nothing hurts quite as much as that
it knocks one flat
A crossroad the poets are at
head in hands sat.
The poets pray to God on high
and angels sigh
Then write the poems in the sky
they’ll never die.
Looking up to the stars at night
poetry bright
Answer to a poetic plight
poets delight.
*+*+*
26th May 2023
Copyright © Beryl Edmonds | Year Posted 2023
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