All these silver clouds
Have their dark linings
It’s hard to see beauty
For the truth of factory walls
Harder to sing of love
When emotions come in capsules
Poems have become jingles
Written by software
But the poet’s heart
Surpasses flesh and electricity
MacDougall found the 3/4 ounce soul
But he never found what it is
The poet has always known
It is the font of poetry and life
No comments:
Post a Comment