Life of the long lived, but shortly known poet.

Lying in my bed

i'm saying words I'd always left unsaid.

poetry kept in a box 

now being released when previously locked.

The words are all out

sprawled on the floor to shuffle about.

knees aching

from legs cross-crossed to keep from quaking.

love walks in

and my pain stops and the rest of my life can begin.

 

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