It's been a few years since I have composed any "formal" poetry or prose.  I can honestly tell you my life began the day my sixth grade teacher found a poem that I had written during her class.  Rather than scold me for being distracted from her lesson, she seemed to favor my humble composition.  So much so, that she requested I perform it for the whole middle school at the upcoming assembly.  Years later, here I stand, sharing my sincere thoughts and perspectives with you.  As I feel poetic inspiration to be a gift of mine that comes and goes, I'm thankful to have this opportunity to share a recent poetic inspiration of mine with you.

Beware of the foam fingered patriot, for his home sits atop of a fence.
He will argue with you just to get to your rue and for a dollar he'll jest to make cents; or sense or scents.
Quick to make judgements is how he shall be for ignorance is his consequence.

Beware of the foam fingered patriot for he rides the most common of trails. He drinks from a cup filled up with guff and savors flavors of many ails.
In Mind over Matter he'll covet the latter, and heave it upon you in pails.
-Maurice Duhon, Jr.

The hair is lost with a sigh.
The grace is lost with a grin.
The strength is lost with a nod.
Hope to keep your heart throughout.
-Maurice Duhon, Jr..


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