I used to swallow my poems,
Closed my mouth and forced my throat,
Hoping I could keep them down.
Maybe I thought I was weak.
And to be soft was a sin
In my shortsighted eyes.
But now the words won't stop coming
The floodgate is open
And I think, for once, that's fine.
Let the poems flow,
For me not to drawn nor choke
With thousands of unspoken rhymes.
YOU ARE READING
Shortys2024 Challenge
PoetryA collection of poems for the Shortys Challenge 2024. Starting September 1st , I'll be posting a short poem a day and submitting it to the challenge. Join me in this personal quest, and let's find out if I can complete the goal of writing 30 poems i...
