I scarcely acknowledge my words as profound,
I pour them out as they form within.
From time to time they sneak around;
Surprising me silently, not making a sound.
Once I finish a poem, it's off to the next,
Hands firm on the keyboard,
Or thumbs on the phone text.
Oftenly I don't choose my words
But I feel like they chose me;
Is it a big heart or mouth?
That's up to you to judge and see.
I pour them out as they form within.
From time to time they sneak around;
Surprising me silently, not making a sound.
Once I finish a poem, it's off to the next,
Hands firm on the keyboard,
Or thumbs on the phone text.
Oftenly I don't choose my words
But I feel like they chose me;
Is it a big heart or mouth?
That's up to you to judge and see.
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