This poem,
Is just not meant to be,
Well isn't that obvious,
It's written by me.

I write these words,
As they come to mind,
Randomly babbling,
About something inside.

Inside of what?
I do not know,
For these are the words,
Of the random flow.

This poem might suck,
Or you might think it's great,
So just let me know,
Before it's too late.

by Anna Heminsley

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Comments (1)

Very good, Anna. I like poems that rhyme.