In these moments of clarity
comes the revelation
of something that has been
sitting there waiting to be saidA whisper, a fleeting thought
I write without care and
sometimes, for naughtAn ember, a fire starting to dim
I write without strings attached
—cut and cleanIn these moments of insanity
comes the realization
that something has been sitting
there dying for it to be let outSometimes a torrent, a barrage
of words left unsaid
I write without being tied down
by my own wish to be perfectSometimes a chime in the dark night
a whip of breeze in a time sundry
I write without coming to know
what is behind or in front of meAll the more—a wish, a dream
of the better things ahead
I write without thought because
the best rhymes come unexpectedly
YOU ARE READING
an adjournment of scars, an endearment of stitches
Poesía❝𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘢�...