Poets are just regular people who bleed easily,
Bleed ink easily.
And all the words and rhymes are just heart aches and sad times
So praise the poets if you must
We aren’t that special…
Just easy to crush.
-----------------------------------
glow-in-the-dark stars
in my jewelry box
wasted usefulness
like so many thoughts
one single plastic star in the middle of my ceiling
gives a point of reference as I begin my scheming
in the dark, dark quiet between contemplation and sleep
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