writing

Thoughts can flow so free like the breeze,

unhindered by hills, or mountains, or trees.

While some might warm you from elbows to knees,

Others latch on like a swarm of old fleas.

Tis better to save them, to write, if you please.

To cover the page with a poetic sneeze.

Whether out with bang or out with a wheeze,

Wring your thoughts out, give that old brain a squeeze.