Today I set in rhyme
the things which pass the time
I can get a poem written
Not to be by spider bitten
There are ghosts of the past
Unsure of how long they will last
six am, not six thirty am
Struggling as best to be a man
Slow the motion down
to a standstill on the ground
I can get the poem spit
Prove i have a writ
There are doorways of the mind
Which i forever find
A slower beating heart
Is a better place to start
The things that i have got wrong
Can be corrected in poem or song
I will journey forth
to a place neither south or north
I want to walk into the sky
So I can know the reason why
Things could be better made
Better written and said
I will make a poetic breakthrough
Into a day bright, shiny and new
About the Creator
Bruce Underwood
I am trying to figure out if i can make the same amount of money working as a poet for Vocal that i can working part time as a dishwasher.
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More stories from Bruce Underwood and writers in Poets and other communities.
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The late autumn evening air filled the monk's lungs, but it wasn't the season that chilled his bones. The heavy-handed presence of evil he had sensed upon entering the woods surrounding this mountain village had not bothered to conceal itself from him.
By Made in DNA2 days ago in Fiction
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