Forth comes the poetry,
Doe'th it naught.
For what purpose,
comes the poetry.
A new found prayer,
a thought,
or a hope, for the future.
Wriggleing forth, on upward.
To bar it now,
unable or unwilling.
I am.
But share it I must,
endure it you might.
The way then is thus,
to bless us ...
Both.
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I love to collect thoughts. I would love to collect some of yours, if they are mindful and respectable.