What about this space
White and clean with lines
for hanging words in
neat rows, wild words
that stray and scatter
across the sheet of
lines like fugitive
sheep on the hillside
fleeing that piercing
whistle that calls the
the barking blur of
fearsome distant memory
But why bother, Who
cares for my words
why write for the
no-one who will read
these wild words,
they can’t care ,
non-existence has
no cares or fears
So why bother ?
But I do, !!!
I Do !!!!,
I DO.
angusogblog 