The words sprang forth
Like they were locked away
In a crypt
The words bring life
To that which was dead
And unwilling to change
Old dogs and new tricks
An oxymoron if ever there
Was one
And this old grizzled dog
Is not willing to evolve
Paralysis has stunted
His growth
The words paraded passed
Like sexy commercials
At a drive-in
The words bring their
friends
Because they know there is
Safety in numbers
And I wanted to surprise
you
But I ran out of things to
say
As my inspiration shifted
down
And this young roaring
lion
Is not willing to eat crow
Because the feathers
always
Stick in his throat
The words tickle my nose
Like Vernors Ginger Soda
Before excess bubbles were
Censored
The words are on display
For all to revise, revile
and
Repute
The words have lost none
of
Their spark and will not
go
Gentle into that good
night.
Charles Cicirella
8/25/16
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