A line here
And a verse there
Unbecoming is my life (somewhere)
Among words scrambled
(The effort of living is what I strive to pass/ skip)
The labour of living as I strive to skip
Flowing unhindered across the hard rocks
between the nooks (& crannies)
A brook of a chime
A living poem
I want to be(come)
Nobody could bother
To understand or read
A mystery unto myself
Who has ever understood (anyways) a poem
Or (what a poet/) a poet what really meant?
Who has ever understood (anyways)
a poem
(or) a poet
what really (ever) meant?