Angers’ Retreat


After reading some

poetry blogs

And some comments

that were left

for myself and some

of my friends

my heart-felt

quite bereft.

I stepped out onto

the porch to have

myself a smoke

And an awesome poem

began forming as the

anger within

me spoke.

Upon finishing

my cigarette

a great write

I felt I had,

But when I sat down

with my paper

and pen,

I found I no longer

felt bad.

I tried and tried

to remember the prose

that had flowed

so rapidly,

I guess the words

as well as the anger

flowed away

from me.

And as I write

these words of tell

in lieu of the others

I’d planned

I find my soul

at peace,

And love flowing

from my hand.

Pretty cool, huh?

Copyright © 2006


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