an ode to language

Poetry to me is not some




-Not just a little




But rather a place

Where I can face



The challenges of life

In strife.



Though I may mosey

Through this cozy



Existence of mine,

I see myself trying to find

A place where I belong-

Of course, I could write a song.



But I tend to sway off-pitch

And find myself in a ditch



Where no one can find me:

This is why I turn to poetry.



I can speak my mind

With imperfect rhyme



And even talk nonsense a little bit too.



Its where I can make my own rules

Despite all those fools



That claim my words

Shan't be so diverse.



I can frolic and shiver

Along any river



Of thought

As long as I remain to be taught.



With that being said-

Without any dread-



I end with a thank you to you

-(my ode to language)


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