The Bits..

Feeding me with bits of words, May induce me longing for full, Not the teasing measure of dull, But from the wise ladle a scoop, A pair of scissors in the crown, May cut the sentence into sections, To stand as the skeleton with bare bones, Page after page repetition and negligence, What I want to remember mowing through, The softened grass, once sharp as the blades, Please don’t feed me bits of words, Feed me something new and tastes as the tart, Crispy outside, but soft inside, Freshly baked from your brain oven, The smell should be great, Let me come to your table, uninvited.