not in my craft or sudden fart
do not craft a poem;
do not fine tune a poem;
if it speaks, it speaks.
it spoke to you didn’t it?
even if it flashes
as bright as a cut diamond,
it will be from
the same seam,
in the same mine,
as my uncut diamond,
that burns with a hidden light.
so, my dear prospector of words,
move on in search of the next gem,
that, with others, will adorn the crown
that, with others, will adorn the crown
of your anthology.
caveat emptor,
reader beware.
written as seen,
no rewording offered.
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