PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I’ve been havin’ an endless play on words

and I’ve been wonderin why I haven’t started to verb

broken in the middle of sentences cuz the thought occurred

of the only alternative to the truth of the world

cuz this endless play on words is a person

beyond that he is the very first son

broken and burried and raised after the third sun

came up from the day he hanged, talkin’ about the word son

cuz for me, an endless play on words is prefferred

to braken barriers, metaphysically flippin the bird

a broken finger is what you get in the end, it’s so absurd

to refuse to assume your position in God’s herd

In an endless play on words you can rest assured

every meaning of wisdom and smallest need will be conferred

broken up daily bread broken down prophecy unheard

while all the weeds get cut out and burned by the wrath they incurred