Poetry

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PROSE CAN COME BY WHEN YOU TRY,WORD'S HAVE NO LIMIT SINCE THE
WORLD DID BEGIN'ETH EVERYONE'S TOO USE THEIR LENGTH OR BREADTH IS
OUR MIND'S INPUT,THEY CAN BE BOILED,OILED,OR SOILED,UNLIKE A
LIGHTED MATCH DARKNESS LOSES ITS PATCH,WORD'S MAY LIVE INSIDE A
SIEVE HOLES APART MAKE FOR A SEPERATE SPACE,WHAT'S SHAKEN UP CAN
RUSH AND RACE TOO INGREDIENCE PLACE,THEY REST AT EASE IN A BOWL
THAT AIMS TO PLEASE,EXCUSE ME WHEN I OVER DO AND WORD'S BECOME A
POT OF STEW,A MIXTURE THAT CAN SAY I DO AM READY WHEN YOU ARE READY TOO,WORD'S MAY LIVE ALL ALONE IN A DICTIONARY THEY WILL FIND A
HOME,WORD'S CAN WEAR A COAT OR A CAPE GOD BLESS US THEY ALSO HAVE
THEIR VERY OWN SHAPE,JUST ASK OR MAYBE TAKE.
Joe.

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