Now I lay me down to sleep,
secure in the knowledge that poetry
is in both better and worse shape
than it always was.
These are words and here
are some more.
Remember when they used to
pick locks with bobby pins?
Or when children built
rocketships out of confetti?
These are words and here
are some more.
Feel free to feel free.
metamorphhh (aka jim crawford)
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/nighters/
