When I was one
I had just begun
To play with words
It was lots of fun
When I was two
There were loads I knew
Big and small
To talk to you
When I was four
I'd learned even more
Although .. Words can be puzzling
to describe what I saw
When I was thirteen
With words I was mean
I preferred to grunt
On talking I wasn't keen
When I was twenty five
Words inside came alive
With so much to say
To write I did strive
And now I 'm this age
Words go on every page
They're no longer confined
Their released from their cage.
This poem was written as part of Saturday Centus for the prompt <b>words can be puzzling</b>
4 comments:
What a wonderful source for our beloved words...and more words...are all we have...but oh they are so much more right!
Enjoyed your poem!
=)
Very good, I think it chronicles our relationship with words and language very well.
This felt like a song to me.
I felt the melody, rhythm and poignancy in every word.
Really beautiful use of the prompt.
This is my favorite for the week!
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