Sometimes I can write
Long lines of verse
While other times
No words come?
Why is it that
When I am sad
Sadness flows in words
While happiness
Languishes in feelings?
Poets talk of love
Of daffodils and lakes
But hardly ever
Touch on all the other things?
Why is it that
Some things can only be
Expressed in poetry
Woven line by line
Saved from memory?
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