The first in a series: Chuck's Adventures with words
I lied
I died.
Well, okay, I lied,
or rather tried.
But isn't that what poets do?
Embellish notions,
magnify emotions,
invent new oceans
(of meaning.)
I cried,
then I denied,
and claimed I'd just sighed.
But isn't that what poems do?
Create fiction
by exploiting diction
to express conviction
(or pretend to?)
"Don't make me laugh!"
"What a gaffe!"
"You don't know half!"
But isn't that what critics say?
Who judge a poem's renown,
perhaps put it down,
even if unfound-
ed (they lied.)
These words of ink
create some link
and make you think.
But isn't that what a poet does?
Fashion a poem,
give words a home
and thoughts a throne,
force minds to roam.
(Did I lie?)
copyright 1997 by Chuck Morlock
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