Poetry to Me

Sat, 01/13/2018 - 18:45 -- gsilva

Notebooks, napkins, and tests
Have all served as resting places for my words
Every surface that dares meet my eyes
Becomes a potential burial site


But, before the grave,
Comes the shovel
And when digging up inspiration
All that had been buried is brought to light

This poem is about: 


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