Posturing

(a paragraph poem)

I am posturing hanging onto the memory of the things I know my soul must enjoy praying to mend the sorrow that has octopussed his tendrils around my heart creating a suction of unending woes hoping that in doing the memory of joy i will rise again to an even plain of the me i not only use to be but will become but even doing the memory of the joy has not unleased the quality of what was i eat a spoon of full of sugar trying to remember that it is sweet i write a thousand poems and cannot find one word that rhymes will i have the patience to heal with time and will I have the time to heal my impatience?


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