The Label Of A Thing

Poem By Will Boyce

The label of a thing.
The word that disguises it.
What really is this thing?
This stone in my hand...

Not this stone.
But underneath it…
Underneath the grey.

With Specks.

With Specks of crappy poetry,
I can’t figure.
I just can’t fathom.
What it really is,
Really is
behind its mask.

I try to find out.

A hammer won’t show
What a stone is really made of.

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