Tuesday, October 27, 2015

poetry musings



He is made up of words that not anyone can understand;
his mind is a dictionary of sadness and heartache
and his heart is a poetry book for the hopeless.
He is the prettiest song,
the perfect sonnet,
the most meaningful haiku,
and the longest novel.
It takes a while to read him,
seconds to love him 
and a life time to forget him. 

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