Poem written for my PDC3K poets

Drink coffee
With cream and cinnamon
Write a poem
With bravery and synonyms
Talk about your struggles
Without saying what they are
And put them down on paper
Forever, just how they are

Speak of poetry
Jest and play
Share a story
From work, or your day
Count the dice, 1 through 10
Oh look, they're skewed
Oh well, challenge accepted
We shall make them new
A cane, a shadow
An abacus, a sheep

A question asked from the side
Of how to climb something so steep;
How to write something so unique;
How to determine a poem so deep...
That is riddled with locks, the size of my socks
And it's tempo has no direction or beat
The ballad has been sung
And the flowers can go to bed now
The keyhole has been sprung
And the magic has been undone now

A soft, equivocal stream
Pulls up from the deep
And the book has been read a little
But the tree roots go to sleep
In the cold, dark ground
Like a comment, spat in the air
A plane flies overhead
Out of nowhere
Yet it might have been
Timed with care...

And so we've eaten
The apple to its core
And we climbed down the keep
The dice have been rolled
And the images have steeped
The coffee is delicious
And the feeling's worth it
Just smoking a magic stick
Before I post this on Steemit

Like a weed boss
Shot down on the Mexican border
Like a green hoss
Trying next time a little harder
Like a seasoned stick
Of Mary Jane, dropped on the floor
Like a tramatic dream
Of pipe smoke and Indian lore
I will smoke this Herb
All the way down to the core
And post it all over Steemit
Like a proud little whore...
Score!!

Written by Robyn Eggs. Copyright November 20th, 2017. All rights reserved.

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**This post was dictated using Bixaby, on my S8 android phone, and posted, using the esteem app.* ## Cheers~!