But strangely in many directions
How can anyone know where poetry is lurking
And where it will creep up next
You find yourself accidently running into it
Nobody is leading this
Perhaps poetry is charging ahead
As if a living thing
Wanting more life
To breath at last
As magic comes.
How can anyone know where poetry is lurking
And where it will creep up next
You find yourself accidently running into it
Nobody is leading this
Perhaps poetry is charging ahead
As if a living thing
Wanting more life
To breath at last
As magic comes.
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