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The Language of Poetry

Let it be rough;
Let it be unpolished;
Let the rhythm skip a beat.
Let the words be real like drop-forged steel;
Like the sound of the city street.

Let the high-toned ways
Of flowered phrase
Entertain collegiate clones;
And let the way men talk be the founding rock
With which my simple rhymes are honed.

Picture of Wes Stephenson

Wes Stephenson

Author, motorcyclist, poet, and adventurer. Let's journey together.

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