Poetry

The letters dance and prance in my head
wondering what wild word
they’ll sing next.

The words will spill out
like a can of paint.
Painting a picture of
this mans sorrow and regret.

The words play hide and seek,
in between the thoughts of future
and the pasts regrets.
Waiting to be snatched,
and slapped onto the paper
where they will display
beautiful thoughts of
my live’s best.

But sometimes,
the words are forced.
Painfully removed from your chest.
Ripped from deep within,
displaying eerie thoughts,
thoughts which the surface should have never been met. 
These thoughts might be dangerous,
or they may display
a man's worse
regret.






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