Another story, another line. A string
of words, that are inclined to
capture these fleeting thoughts of mine.
Some words, just appear. Where others
remain, hidden in the shadows of
my mind.
There is a tendency, that stays with me
to write in verse or rhyming poetry.
I'm not sure why but I will say
it is ingrained in patterned words
that fall to paper, instantly.
I try not to think, too hard,
but like a broken pot or a shard,
will drop to paper, with scratching pen
and then will be the place I began.
Why I write in this way,
is still a mystery, most every day.
A Comment by Alex
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A welcome mystery it is. I enjoy reading your stories. They show depth, meaning, humor and much more.