Two

This is not a poem,

It has no rhyme,

Spares no time,

And costs a dime.

Two: It took me a while

For I love words,

I hear them, utter them and take them back.

It's like rolling a carpet,

It goes away from you and then you bundle it back.

I woke up between 7am and 7:06am.

I stretched in bed and said,

'Maybe ten more minutes,'

I blinked and tossed.

I got out of bed with one thing in mind:

Poems do not have to rhyme.

--

Do not let anyone define you.