The Daily Fret; Stanza 5

Points of View
 

Words running,

Did often slip,

And in chasms,

Did endless get;

Lost some say,

But rather glib,

i found their jeer,

And grin with it.

And smugly too,

Like polished nibs,

Gleamed the ink,

Of life they writ;

With blood so blue,

That once dipped,

All seas and skies,

Immersed in it.

But some said,

Were troubled bits;

For eyes weak,

Were bound to flit-

To horizons lines,

To quickly fit,

The points of views,

That came to sit;

That blurry sight,

In half jest and wit,

Said twinkled stars,

By just being lit…