Talking to myself through poetry
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The cracked Shells has fallen off
From backs of turtles and snails,
And the creatures are happy
“No more heavy loads to carry
No more ugly outward looks”
All these and more they sang.
But Shell couldn’t understand
Why they all spoke so ill of her
The crystals had turned opaque
Until the tortoises snapped back
To reality, and felt true gravity,
Then they understood her values.
I followed flying butterflies as I craved But they landed me deep into a grave I bled right on the floor not just the pain…
Used to think a lot More of lust, no fault A big bum, big breast Pretty face, white teeth… Yet, one met no one Wired…
A special thank you to all philanthropists From east to west and north to south; Up the sky; freely the littlest of birds fly In…
The alleviated pains from cradle to this very day Has been a bundle of joy, a perfect gift I must say How fast the hand…
