I have somehwere to go
So I have to inhale , exhale
Let go and just let my hands tell the tale
Before its yime to take my pills
I just want to chill and bust a Lyme
Recline in this bed and take a hit of that spliff
Not breaking night
But I'll be writing until I run out of ink
I'm spilling the truth out of the cup of ink
Words appear on the paper , in all the pages overflowing with messages of wisdom
Understanding that this chill is a medicinal quiick fix for my withdrawl
The urge to write
Yet my little person doesn't understand
Ignoring the raging anger and letting the flow take over
Listening to soothing music on spotify
While time is just passing by
And I'll continue to write in this evening chill षड्यंत्र
YOU ARE READING
My Tongue Is A Pen Of A Ready Writer
PoetryHere are a collection of poetry I have written within my teenage years, early adult life . I hope you all enjoy.
