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Poetry and Pain
Who am I to say poetry and pain are not the same thing, destiny hang in the balance challenge the status quo, pain when recovered will make us sane I am not the one to complain ,but did god create rightness was he the first one to say the good die young, it keeps repeating in my brain what make one young and what make one old ,I was told age ripping history books page by page I did that in a sec is it still about age, so what is wisdom that come with experience a child soldier ,in Rwanda will show you how it’s done as soon as he lift his tongue to speak old and bold knees ,will turn week we seek the things going forward but never looking in the past, take a fishing pool shoot a line to hit the whirlpool into the divine splash there your past will shine refine the goals so the present , we can uphold never be hot or cold ,warm is something like breath fresh air it can be hard if you dare so what is poetry a rose you can hold never letting go from your memory ,slow is when painless petals stop from falling because you want to hold on but when you see its already gone but you see still the reflection in the pond.
