By Will Alone

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A poem, you asked,
As if I write
By will alone.

I’ll try, I said,
Thinking I may
Be able to.

But as I sit
To think, to write,
My vision clouds.

I see no words,
Only feeling,
But good feeling.

How do I write
When I feel good?
When I see love?

How do I write
When pain has been
Banished fore’er?

Would you have me
Write of your smile,
your eyes, your mind?

Those things I love,
I cherish them,
But I wouldn’t dare.

I could never
Do them justice.
I tried before,

With someone else,
But it, shallow,
Fell flat and died.

The feeling there
Died long ago,
Pushed by words.

A poem, you asked,
For you alone;
Not possible

I say after
I realize
That my poems…

Are not my own,
I cannot give
What is not mine.

Im so sorry
I say, before
I notice, here…

Here is your poem.

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