PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Seems I am closer to your home,

my flesh torn, feet worn,

glance of breeze,

knuckles

then my identity

which does not has  an image

are place on your white door,

I am fatigue, I hear your call,

seems I was in a dark room,

a solid mineral form,

wanted to imprint its name on my arms,

sight of red liquid,

my forehead place on your door,

odor of sweat and fatigue is what roams,

I am fatigue, I hear your call,

it pierced through my flesh,

made a mark on my veins,

and like splashing water,

seemed to create my bed,

my arms and knees facing the floor,

making your white walkway,

a form of where our earthly stars

walk upon on premier night or special events,

I am fatigue, I hear your call,

drowned in this pool, for seconds it took,

when they gave me the address to my destiny,

in front of your door,

I am fatigue, I hear your call,

yet please don’t answer your door,

I can walk safety back to my home,

just need sometime in your corridor,

for my thoughts and mind to fully unfold