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We Turn Into Poetry


What are these words? 

A fight within me? My thoughts? 

Are my words about you?

There's no rhythm or rhyme.

There's not much that resonates with another. 

But these words, whoever they are about: you, me ... life... I conconct. 

Like magic, we turn into poetry.



Comments

  1. Anonymous10 September 2026 at 07:16

    Everything felt can’t be expressed either

    ReplyDelete

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