Peanuts and Crackerjacks

Poetry is a broken heart and an unrequited love
Poetry is free verse and thoughts left trapped inside
Poetry is a beautiful woman and the reflection she finds hideous
Poetry comes from deep or shallow wells that dwell in the heart
Poetry can be written
Poetry will be read
Poetry is never understood
Poetry lies in the glimmer of a kind reflection and hateful shuns from angered reader
Poetry and life are simply baseball games on a barroom television
Poetry is a batter at the plate and a 10th inning home run
Poetry is the blood shed on foreign soil battlefields and the 25th hour of the soul
Poetry is Stepping up, swinging, missing, and hearing a cheering crowd love you anyway
Poetry goes on regardless of regrets and the should have been
Poetry lies not in the record books, the fortunes pissed away, or the fame
Poetry is the smell of the grass of freshly cut graves
Poetry is life squandered, embellished, and finding a broken moonlight dream
Poetry and life is Americas pastime of moving past mistakes and regret.

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