Sparks And The Fires Burning

Before I wrote poetry I tried to write songs. I would find time and again a melody I had was a rehash of a song drifting through my memory. So my simple point here is that pure originality is unattainable, but that doesn’t and shouldn’t stop us creating.

SPARKS AND THE FIRES BURNING

Loosely,
Fingers write rhythms
Felt a long time back.
Quickly,
Minds rank how they run;
Seeing late their lack.
Hoping
They might remember
Creating is old;
To this
All of history
Has given it’s hold.

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