These words
Are a fire
Are life
Are satire
Gallop of horses
At the cry of battle
Cup of hot cocoa
On a cold rainy day
These words
Are madness
My insanity
Are darkness
My humanity
A breath of fresh air
sweet smelling fragrance
glimpse of sunshine
In a cold, drab world
These words
Are my own
Are my muse
Are my enemies
Some, shocking views
Are irregular
No patterns, no rules
My fortitude, my cenote
These poems
Are many things.
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