Poetry's a Teapot
I wait ‘til the end of the day
when I may have more to say
At times the words come tumbling out
Poetry, a teapot… my pen, a spout
Then there are nights I stare at the screen
Handcuffs on my heart, sight unseen
In the morn I once tried my hand ~
Muse yet ‘neath the spell of the sandman
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