Bipolar Storm

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Bipolar Storm

A flipped coin,
Forever spinning,
From heads to tails
and back again...
Two minds next to every point,
Deep South meets Due North,
Far East crosses Old West;
sometimes my tank
Is running on empty.
And sometimes my cup runneth over;
Bound in a knot and completely undone,
A storm within myself...
Summer showers against a winter storm.
"Bipolar Storm"

A flipped coin,
Forever spinning,
From heads to tails
and back again...
Two minds next to every point,
Deep South meets Due North,
Far East crosses Old West;
sometimes my tank
Is running on empty.
And sometimes my cup runneth over;
Bound in a knot and completely undone,
A storm within myself...
Summer showers against a winter storm.

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Poetry is what is lost in translation.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

maxskyfan’s Poems (12)

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