Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Sometimes True

Embarrassing poetry happens again
Un- pre- pondered, full of dread
Will it fit once all is spilled
Into the cracks of another head?
Some message, sure
That might clarify the blur
Or a copout excuse- the freedom to see
The message could spring from anybody
But next year for certain, Love.
Some kind of incantation
A spell for peace...