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At Times
At times,
I feel
A perturbed sense of isolation
Standing amidst stalwarts
Along their side,
Shoulder to shoulder
Not knowing any milder
A word of poetry
Except perhaps mine is creative.
Of newer vein
In veins seeded,
Some 13.5 billion years ago,
But such plants of imagination
Must grow,
As weeds
Then only twill be a challenge
For glorious poets
To lauratious poems seed
scribbler
14 years 5 months ago
poets
I know what you mean every time I read others I marvel at being accepted within their company..........scribbler
loved
14 years 5 months ago
The two of us
PERHAPS SAIL
THE SAME BOAT
u at the stern
and I aft