Fickle Words (poem)

Some words I claim I’ll write
Stay often day and night
They wander through my mind
But “EXIT” they don’t find.

I wish they’d come to front
Stand up or pull a stunt
But to the back they go
And toss me to and fro.

Then when they’ve grown to tire
Of things down in the mire
They stand as is if say
“We’ve changed our names, today.”

Ah, phooey!
I think I’ll be a plumber!

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