write poetry daily

One red rose lay on the ground all alone waiting for someone to pick it up.
Lay there day on end all alone.One person came to pick it up. A pedal fell off. One person pick up the pedal and went for the rose. It belonges, so they can become lovers forver. The two people fall in love.There lay the rose one the ground wait for another people two find it.
One rose just laying there dieing for love. There is no one to pick it up.So it died. Widdle away all that is letf of it is the peddls and the stem.
Then the wind comes and pick it up.

It never ends,
The concerns for the appearance
Of our car or truck.

Like a great many Americans,
We have two vehicles,
One for wife, one’s usually mine;

I painstakingly enter the quarters
Into the slots, and gun already held,
I begin to spray the high-pressure water

Soap, brush, rinse—and if I’ve time,
Tire wash and motor wash too.
This is our temple, our second home, our baby.

The American dream.

I love poetry and writing, and I’m pretty good at it to. I am going to try to set aside time to write and collect my thoughts.