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I will probably take this down in the near future out of fear. Fear of bad poetry. Fear of being dumb. Mostly fear of being dumb.

A poem for the written-block:
I am,
Perhaps unduly,
Excited by someone who
Giggles when happy,
With matching hair.

[come on…it’s a choo-choo train],
Pull it into the
No-self-deprecation
Infatuation
Station.

Ignore that double
Entendre.

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.

A song of
Empowerment?

Enjambment is important here.
Truth.

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