That's not poetry, those are greeting cards
And not very good ones at that
You call yourself a poet, who are you kidding
Why don't you just give up, adnit you failed
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what a ring of truth this poem has, we all have our own style and we are all poets
In times past A friend and I would sit in a theater Talking about this and that And discover that a near person Was listening and following our conversation. At that point We some times would launch into a discussion Of things most devious Sometimes lowering our voices So that the 'intruder' straining to hear Would still not know what we were talking about. Finally the game would end with the beginning Of the program. But we often wondered what Thoughts remained With the listener. Keep talking to yourself, Others are listening.