Purveyors of perception

Is what a poet be

Sifting through the shards of life

That most choose not to see


Seekers of answers

No one knows for sure

The good days are great

The bad days more


Our love is dissected

Cutting up the muse

In search of a beating heart

Something we can use


Dives dismally deep

Doling out despair

Climbs quite climatic

Seemingly without a care


Our minds are a toy

For building, breaking and play

Scattered pieces everywhere

What will we find today?



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