It's been long since I wrote a poem
but perhaps not too long
who wants to read these lines
that never quite rhyme
So many poems speak
in so many different ways
this one speaks of what is not
it speaks to not speaking
by holding in one thing
another springs forth
it is the mind's condition
it's bounty seeks an exit
our brains are balloons
if not allowed to open
they spring small leaks
or sometimes pop at once
and so my words
are little leaks
my heart explodes
with nothing said
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