Poetry

Stepping Out (#663)

The poem that would never come,
Inspiration’s been so humdrum,
I never thought it’d reach the page,
It was quietly hiding out backstage,
Who knows how long it’d been there,
But come out it didn’t even dare,
So, what in the world made it finally emerge?
It sure as hell wasn’t an inspirational surge,
Perhaps it was finally ready to be born,
Or ready to be the rose rather than the thorn,
For whatever its reason happens to be,
It was a poem I was happy to see,

Any Thoughts?

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