Twixt the caverns of the mind
And the edges of the quill,
Lurks the matters that are dearest
To my soul.
.
As I seek to set them free,
I oft am fraught with indecision.
.
Such hesitancy,
Alas,
Is a defect.
.
For these are times
My Muse is mute.
.
Such trying times,
I must refute.
They call
for relevancy.
.
Ah!
But to see the beauty of a flower!
Partake of some significant event.
To feel the burning need
of the oppressed!
Express the moments of the hour.
Speak for the muted mass.
.
Perchance,
To touch the face of love.
.
For these I pray!
.
For then,
With powerful perception
My pen will race upon the page.
Unfettered thought shall run with joy,
And I will write
It all.
.
Author Notes
Yes I will
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