LOST IN THE DIS-EASE


I’m a bit of a poet slacker… that’s what happens when I don’t feel well.  I”M BACK..

 

Breaking the chain of days of words

Finding the string that binds in my hands

Letters that call out stories in lines

That lay me in sentences across the page

 

Inner critic ties me in knots 

suffocates poetic structure’s dally

It’s all good if I believe it to be 

No day is lost in timelessness

 

Crawl out of the dreary dally

of snot and cough, of head throbbing

Words to far away a to gather here

 

Give to the perfect moment 

Never lost to dis-ease’s clutch

Begin again and again 

Every moment is a new beginning

 

 

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