PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Tears of weight droop down with a slow nature, like molasses they cover my mind

Fatigue is my motivation and challenge my ammunition

Turning to the sky with my head tilted high, a gesture that no longer provides relief

Any such superficial movement now sends to grief, and quickly it arrives

Like an orange moon that hangs in the night sky, seemingly larger than the night before

An emotion is born and glides through the hue of integrity and promise 

Soaring, the wings of climate trail a rush of wind, it blows through our hair and grazes the skin

Shivers enter from my spine to my lips as my knowledge is quick to snap it's whip

Survival is a monument that we must not dare let free for what more important to live

Even if you are to live in a dream, a bad dream, is survival really the key

From the clouds to my toes like my readiness to hope, an expansive confusion that only seems to grow

What fever has become from this tow, I climb up high to find new lows                

                                  A robot she called me, an inexplicable reason that I refrain from speech

                                  Misunderstood, as my patience turns weak

                                  There's no sympathy and I do not seek it

                                   I wallow isolated in vines which I slice with a machete

                                   Forever to not be defeated