I left it all on paper,
All that’s ink that is;
The rest is purely vapor,
Surely no one’s biz.‘Twasn’t from the heart at all,
Seldom ever is,
But somewhere in that neural sprawl,
Gleams a proof that lives.
© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.
💛🌻
LikeLiked by 1 person