We all have thoughts

They're in our heads

During the day or when

We take to our beds

But where do thoughts go

When we're brown bread?

Do they expire when we do

Or emigrate instead?

Do orphaned thoughts stray

Seeking a new home?

Is the air alive with ideas?

Does a corps of notions roam?

And is that where poetry begins?

Idling like taxis, do rhym...

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