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Full of Hot Air
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On Poetry Words used to flow out of me
Like the air out of
A just popped balloon.
Then, I was floating on air
Because through
This verbal release
I could escape the inner pain.
And then the words stopped,
The balloon emptied,
And I cried out as
I was slowly deflated with hope.
Now, the words are returning,
But, slowly, as my
Emotions take longer
To leak onto the blank page.
Maybe the words I used
To write back then
Were just hot air.
