Some days imagination,
Like a lazy teenager, wants no part in poetry
Scanning paper after paper
Lap top growing hot
Searching for a spark
In a world of protest
And sorrow,
Rape and drowning,
Slain children
Tortured activists
Some days, I wish to read about
Late strawberries peeking under floppy leaves
Elderly dogs madly chasing squirrels and
Kids earnestly peddling lemonade.
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