Song Sing
Song lives,
song loves, I sing.
Song laughs,
song cries, we sing.
Song could
make us bad,
Song may
drive us mad,
Sing Sing.
© David
Girard 01/04/15
Poetry by David Girard. I did not intend to write – it just happened. I did not choose poetry – it chose me. The process is therapeutic as it has given a voice to all of the crap that has been rattling around in my head. I have no delusions of grandeur and write first and foremost for myself and would like to compile my poems etc. into a book to share with others.
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