I am a poem-

Not a fancy one at that,

No rhymes, no rhythm,

Just words formatted oddly.

I have no deep meaning,

One that resonates with the world,

Or exorcises deep thought,

I just…exist.

But that is alright,

I suppose not everything has meaning,

Unless it’s not found,

Hiding in plain sight,

Lying in mounds of sand,

Left for you to only find,

And not the _grizzly hands of the world,_

_The strangers that roam._

_And the meaning is worth millions,_

_That could change your life if you commit,_

_Commit to the gruesome digging ahead-_

I don’t think any of that applies to me…

For I’m just a poem,

Not meant to be deep,

I’m looking too much into it-

I’m fine with no meaning.

(I’m sorry for not posting yesterday! I didn’t know what to write and decided to take a day break from making poems since the last one I had was months ago 💀. I’m still keeping my streak though, I’m at 83 days!! ✨)