So little effort.
So short the step.
It is difficult to discern if it is proper in direction.
So meager the attempt.
A glint of work and it is all "Toe-to-heel"
Yet, I am required to recognize the thought.
In a world where that is all that counts.
If I want anything I better count my lucky stars for that ounce.
It's a pair of black and barely there.
A quick costume change and then the shapes remain.
A pose that will not break,
Nor bend,
Nor embrace willingly the calloused hand of forward planning.
Welcome
Hello, and welcome to my daily poetry blog. The following poems are improvised based on my day, general reflections, or by just allowing my mind to cruise in neutral without a filter. I have been working on this for something around two years now and have amassed a lot of words. You can either go through them page by page, or check out the "Hall of Better Poems" option in the right column. Please feel free to comment on what you like or dislike, and also subscribe below if you like this sort of thing. Thanks!
- Patrick Lyndaker
(typically I will write down my ideas on paper throughout the day and I may not get in front of a computer to transfer it. So I then dump a few days worth of poems at once.)
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