Words spoken with practical touch.
May say little, but imply much.
Where does one draw the line.
It’ll be the same, till end of time.
Explosive meanings-enter the brain.
To others…do they mean the same.
Or are they tools, to win and entice.
Like a gambler throws, weighted dice.
We want to trust…oh do we ever.
To dreamers and poets, it’s a lever.
So be aware with tools of the trade.
Some poets are born, but others made.
There are poets who say what they mean.
Like the colour of nature, spring green.
Not meaning innocent, but true sincere.
Need to make that to all, quite clear.
One must never assume, of hurt-jilted.
If one and a poet, are just not suited.
Just observation, when life is fine.
Just voicing opinions, here in rhyme.
Copyright © Kathy M Lawson
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