Do words penned in solace
Of a thoughtless mind
Deserve
To be treated thusly?
Shapeless, shiftless, hopeless
A poem,
Indeed.
Expression never more
Weightless
Never more
Useless, perhaps,
Is prose better suited,
Or will words escape the writer once more?
Welcome back, friends,
To the world.
Perhaps less magical than you
Remember
Perhaps more than meets the eye.
Welcome back to a trade forgotten
An epoch ago.
Shaped more neatly,
But no less sweetly
Under the practiced pen.
A poem,
A poet,
Once more.
Thanks for waiting.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like this, Giuliana. You have given us all some things to think about.