Poems are like rivers,
That flow from the soul.
Some fill large fountains,
Whilst others a bowl.
Alas for your source,
It tis but a trickle.
And much like your art,
I find myself fickle.
I don't know great art,
but I know what I like.
You're as good at these poems,
As you were with your bike. (too soon?)
(I have things to do away from the computer but I will be back later. I have 2 Witts and 1 Rex in the hopper so please don't take my silence as defeat)

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