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Local Focus – Global Reach

Posted by MFish

I don't know why.
You tell me,
Why my mind,
Locks up
With thoughts,
Too small
Or so large.
I need to clear,
At least for me,
This pile of words,
Hindering my mind.
Stuck away
To those places,
So deep inside.
Help me, please,
This voice does plead,
For I cannot see
What lies ahead,
Besides the agony
Of a body's failings.
No matter what.
No matter who.
I need freedom
To see myself
As others do.

A gentle breeze blows across my brow
as I dig holes for fall plantings.
The problem, I have, with
planting European Bluebells,
is the many roots that grow,
beneath the tree. Not big,
just small roots that must be cut.
Instructions are to plant under a tree
and they will multiply.
I'm anxious to see the results
next Spring.

Sometimes when I'm writing,
I would swear, my mind
Has thoughts of it's own.

With pen in hand, I write
The words that pop into
This brain of mine.
Writing fast, scribbling here,
Unable to read the words
As they fly by, as I attempt to
Write. Oh my goodness
There is no period in sight
To end all this rambling
Prose. There. Finally one
Did appear, but what happened
To the commas?
Did they disappear?
I wish I knew, for it would
Make it clear, that my
Writing sense is not here.

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