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The Poem Eagle
February 12, 2022
Unwritten poems
Swarm my mind
As I try to sleep
They always come
When they can’t be caught
Right before bed
In the middle of conversation
During lunch
They are like birds
Fickle, fleeting
flying, flitting about
From one place in my head
Then out
Never to return
Eaten by the eagle
Of no pen
No paper
No time
© Addie C., Hampton, Georgia
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I wrote this in math when I did have a pen, paper, and time. (math is boring)