Guest Poet B. W. Davis
Composure
The sun came out early,
I opened my lies,
polished up my deception,
shuffled on my disguise.
Got in my persona,
then took it to work,
walked in with a shiny most pleasant composure,
and was saddened again
by how well it all worked.
February, 2001
B. W. Davis's Questions:
I've been writing poetry for many years. With no formal poetry schooling though, I really don't know where my work stands.
What would I even ask?
I've developed a style, just like someone picking up a musical instrument without instruction. I have a few more poems I'll submit.
Any critique or comments would be welcomed.
Thanks,
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