Wednesday, June 24, 2009



Words.

Who cares what I write-
as long as I am writing
about myself,
for myself?
A tisket, a tasket,
who's in the basket?
I don't want to be
carried along,
singing not my song,
just to belong.
Making my way,
splashing my wave,
God set me free,
I'm no one's slave.
Driving my car,
I share the road,
swerving for squirrels
and (when it's raining) for toads.
You don't have to look my way
any more than you have to bray.
Think I follow your trails,
since I drove off the rails?
Finding my peace of mind,
finding my piece of time,
finding my please of mine.



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