The poem

[Rainmkr65]

Have you ever stopped to think,

What havoc a poem creates?

When allowed to roam in the real,

Instead of this tablet here.

 

Manifestations with dark expressions.

Syllables to ponder, the words taking form.

Meant to serve the mind,

Certainly, not pointed in kind.

 

A love I once knew wrote double edged prose,

Clever enlightenment the obvious goal.

Forming on paper a brilliant philosophy,

When made real, quite the catastrophe.

 

RM 12/2009