by Lucy Edington

Created on: June 15, 2009

Small, neatly formed, yet often sketchy

Rhyming lines flow out and stay;

Gently molded, not too quickly,

End result, result of change.

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Maybe in their naked format,

Words seem dull and rhyme too much;

Touch on language with no purpose

Leave untold the moods within.

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So I re-arrange their voidness

Bring out the flowers, trains and towns;

Describe the moving/wholesome/living

With the inky/plastic/dead.

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