We Poets Are Slightly Insane
We Poets Are Slightly Insane
We're loose power lines in an angry storm. Dangerous
because we state truths that mere mortals don't want
to hear. They color inside the lines and live within
the box. They seek safety. At times I envy them.
I refuse to live in a black and white world.
Drag my crayons wildly on the paper and draw
what others can only entertain in their dreams.
We'll gather in alleys and graffiti our hearts.
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