A tear rends the blue world,
the green words leak away;
the magick of this place has gone
there's nothing left to say.
Pack it up, grab your things,
be out and on your way;
a poet cannot live upon
the poems of yesterday.
- mce
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I really like this poem. "pack it up, grab your things, be out and on your way;" You are living the writer's life...of this there can be no doubt.
ReplyDeleteAnd sometimes, it's a good life. And sometimes it's not. Like any life, really.
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