What do I do with this trill?
The stir in my heart
It presses too hard
Yet retreats too soon
The moment I reach out
Gone it goes
Did I wait too long
To snatch the effervescence
From the monster under the bed
Am I doomed
Dead before I begin?
Hands up in protest
Enough with the animosity
Directed into the mirror
There is no creative power
In your story of horror
There is no doom
No written clause
But for what has come and gone
What I do
Is a Mantra Against the Dark
To harness the reverberation
It will carry beyond
Past the fear
Crashing through the doubt
To the place of birth
Rocketed from this earth
To the sky's infinity
Finally gone from gravity
Free
6/18/14
p.s.w.
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Typed Word Series
PoetryWords connect all of us. Through laughter, memories, or ridiculous melancholy, we are what we say and what we write. TWS differs from WWS in form only. These are poems longer than 7 lines, allowing a little more freedom in exploring themes and more...
