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+3 votes
shared in Poem by
What irony what dilemma
Imma be a poet but
I can’t stake claim as such
I am so busy
I don’t write much
And what I write
Is never read enough
Tough by character
I can’t be misled
Poetry is my passion
And not something
That feeds me bread
I may not guide you
But I’ll not let you rot and rut
I may not own mansions
I may not hold a ransom dear
But I’m rich at heart
And give out
Without thinking much
I am steady while I walk
But I think of the times
I used to strut
I am not handsome
But that doesn’t undermine
The spell the charm
I could cast on you
When i would open up to you
To speak what’s on my mind.
commented by
Superb post...

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