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January 17, 2014
All Poetry

Creative Friend

Art and creativity feed me
Like a starving child searching
Creativity was the breast that fed me
The smell of cut wood
Pencil dust
Metal shavings
These are some of the items you would find in my nursing bottle
Pages of poems forming wings to embrace me
The act of creating has become an invisible friend
Like some windup toy
It ceases to interact unless you crank it

(c) Jack Roman
All Content Copyright © 2021 Jack Roman Photography All Rights Reserved
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