The OP Poets Parade
The poets come the poets go
Never ending in a ceaseless flow
Words in countless forms are posted
Some are praised and others roasted
Friends are made and then forgotten
Leaving a trail of those disheartened
There are poets with the strangest names
Embroiled in poetic rhyming games
Some haughty and above the crowd
Others down to earth… yet proud
Proud that their words are read
Even though not too widespread
Proud that someone liked their write
A prelude to a restful night
And when they wake in the morn
It just might be the day a great poet is born.
©Copyright Charlie Gragg July 12, 2010
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