I WRITE AS I THINK OF WHAT I THINKI sit looking at the white blank page , thinking
Of what appears comes as quite a suprise
My thourts at the time
As I do not know what will be upon the
One white blank page
Writing or should I say typing out my words
Is my way of talking to others I may never meet
My thinking of the world , yea of my life now and
Then , of years ago
Looking on , not a part of anything to be truthful
An outsider , not rely apart of any circale of freinds
Or group , not rely knowing how to be apart
Always '' the stranger'' , never rely '' one of them ''
Just me , sometimes needed , but really if ever wonted.
The stranger , with strange ways.
Ken D Williams ( THE DYSLEXIC POET )
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Poetry by ken d williams
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Written on 2007-11-29 at 17:01
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