Learn Between the Lines Scholarship Slam
A cryptic poem
With poem casualties.
I sit here, write here, and believe that the spirit will change them.
A cryptic, subjective poem
For strangers that might conclude with lottery thoughts or fallacies.
Could I make it simple?
The Mirror looked back at me, and told me my cheek has a new dimple.
I guess it didn’t have an answer, that poem was crinkled.
I sit there again
Write there again
But, I do not believe again
The spirit will not change them.
Cryptic words won’t change ‘em.
Maybe, just maybe, a spoken voice with patience will get sympathy
Not poem casualties
From a cryptic poem