deepundergroundpoetry.com
From This Small Place
I dedicated myself,
Before my fourteenth year,
At the altar Poetry
When days were bright and clear.
It was a second dawning.
When I was born, the first.
Exploring, with a journal;
My insatiable thirst.
A year has turned to many,
I am the poetry.
My mind, the world within it,
This prisoner set free.
You’re lucky, my dear poet,
To dream, then awaken.
For I never sleep until
Every thought’s forsaken.
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