Three micropoems:
I.
Tonight I shall write
Like never before,
With my left hand,
And my right brain,
To make even less sense
Than I did before!
II.
How can you hope
To be written into
Someone else’s story
When you are
Unwittngly writing
Yourself out of
Your own little tale?
III.
We used to read
Because we
Could not write;
We would then read,
Because we
Wanted to write;
We read now,
Because we
Write too much!
©Aaysid
“One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.”
Jack Kerouac
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