Spontaneous poetry

Words in motion,
now that’s the notion
that things are going to change for the better.

But with these big oceans,
and minds all closed-in
do things really move at all?

I’ve got a friend,
he says nothing ever changes.
Not really.

But I got another friend,
and his life is the pits,
He’s gotta keep hopin’ that tomorrow is different.

I lost my rhythm,
I never had the rhyme,
but these thoughts keep circling in my mind.

Someone tries to analyse this,
they won’t get too far,
spontaneous poetry at the bar.

 

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