
I’m not a hoarder nor supporter, I collect disorder.
I’m out of order with my order so I jump the border.
Break the recorder, rob the skateboarder of his quarters
then stick a stick of dynamite inside his brick and mortar.
I terrorize as a cry of being terrorized.
Try to tell a lie in disguise then romanticize.
Once the color dyes in her eyes you can’t hypnotize.
You can revive and compromise until the feather flies,
but if your flies colonize and the rhythm dies
you will fossilize under gravel skies
until the end of times.
About the Creator
Kale Sinclair
Author | Poet | Husband | Dog Dad | Nerd
Find my published poetry, and short story books here!
Reader insights
Nice work
Very well written. Keep up the good work!
Top insight
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions




Comments (3)
Lovely! Thoroughly enjoyed!
Lovely rhythm and rhyme.
I loved the "flow" of this. A controlled mess whose smart assembly reads between the brilliant lines.