I'm red ink in a gel pen,
In a writer's hand I'm never chicken;
I'm juicy sugar in the cane,
Never confused with green-eyed monster!
.
I'm blue moon in Heaven,
My glow is gentle and faint,
I'm peanuts not yet toasted,
I'm corn flakes that aren't frosted.
.
I'm a tree not pruned,
I'm a poem yet to be fine tuned,
I'm a window without a blind,
I can always detect what's come behind.
In a writer's hand I'm never chicken;
I'm juicy sugar in the cane,
Never confused with green-eyed monster!
.
I'm blue moon in Heaven,
My glow is gentle and faint,
I'm peanuts not yet toasted,
I'm corn flakes that aren't frosted.
.
I'm a tree not pruned,
I'm a poem yet to be fine tuned,
I'm a window without a blind,
I can always detect what's come behind.
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