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Poetry to Me
March 16, 2015
Poetry is like a beautiful room of art.
It starts out as an empty
room with an easel
and a blank canvas.
Your mind is the
palette in which
you construct
your masterpieces.
You sling
bright, vibrant
ideas onto
the canvas.
Time after time
your masterpieces
unwind until
your once bland
room is now
a galleria
ablaze with
fiery reds and
cool blues, all
on display
for only you to see.
© Chelsea H., Carlsbad, CA
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