Is It Poetry - Taking Notes

Light from where I am
on one way streets
dark flickers over head.

The fields are green
and wide,
locked inside a fence.

My dear,
of course it helps
to see the face out side.

No one knows
with whom I speak but you.

Like the honest politician
or the judge
speaking as they speak
why no one hears.

Having conversations
underneath their heads
turning left and right.

Unless you use a word
they've read before.

Is It Poetry

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