“What’s the point?” she asked.
The words don’t even rhyme anymore.
It’s just a few sentences broken in
I don’t get poetry.
“The point”, I said
is that I feel something when I write it -
and I write, in the hope that you feel something too.
You don’t have to feel the same thing -
you just have to feel something.
And when you do feel something,
again, and again, and again,
then that’s a life well lived,