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Opening the vents
Oh God!
I wish I could just scream it aloud.
Tell everyone what did unfold.
Yet, it's a yet.
And always a but.
Vocals are stuck.
Mud became muck.
How can I explain?
Bits and pieces scattered.
Ink spills in puddles.
Torn papers, befuddled.
Help! I must shout!
No longer can I stand this pout.
Nor heat rising from this drought.
Come rains...
Wash away the pains.
There blinding my thoughts
From the truth that is not.
An' I think I should stop.
With this silence.
Theres always a but, no
Theres always a but, no matter what. hope the cleansing rains come...
.
Thanks Poofs! It's monsoon season but the rains keep coming down around us not on us. I got a lot to say. One of these days I'll figure out how. But for now im still in observation contemplation mode.. With a stuck throat.
Copyright © JessterStarshine
Hi Hw
I agree with PP!
Poetry is passion,imagination & soul mixing together....
Words
HW
I wrote a long answer and my phone didn't post it! Crap!
What KS complained about!...here
I miss you!
Poetry is passion,imagination & soul mixing together....
Words
I know this trouble well
That's happened to me a million times. With poems too. Now I write poems on notepad so I don't lose it by hitting the wrong button on pp. Dang! I woulda liked to hear what you had to say. I miss you too.
Copyright © JessterStarshine