Poemhunter Poem by GRANT FRASER

The people at
Poem hunter don't
know, and are only
there to grow, it...

and who am I to
say anyway,
or who are you?

the word itself
I suppose could
get broken,

maybe we ought
to take it more
seriously,
or look at it,
from on high,

everything I don't
put down from inside
my head, isn't
really dead,

for it is not a game,
nor about fame!

I mean who cares
if your little thought
get's broken? (really)

but Poem hunter should
care even more,
shouldn't they?

and say, statistically
speaking, a sure way,
of rounding things off,

'your so called hits! ',

if they don't already
fit you, like a target,

should topple you off,
the whole calender of
creativity altogether,

so Poem hunter people,
remember:

do not feel that words
should just be paints
to paint,

a picture of the world
that you may share
or give,

is more important
than a jumped up,
contrived piece of
literal nothing,
that ever saw the
light of day,

I admit - I do love
words,
but I do not know
if they love me...

and a good day to
you all,

out there in the
blessed word fields...