The hair on my legs are like flowers
It takes time for them to grow
At first they are small and sharp
Protecting the ground from intruders and protecting there owner from side eyes
Then they are longer and bending. Bearing the weight of the whether and stares
Last they are tall and blossomed. With full color and love.
They show on my knees as proudness.
Ever, filtering the comments and wind
Last they are gone with a blizzard and razor
Ready to grow back
Prepared for the winter or another journey
YOU ARE READING
Slam Poems (Preformed)
PoetryThese are slam poems that I have preformed in competitions. These are my first slams and this is my first year of preforming. I am thinking about making a book for poems unrelated to performances. I don't like to categorize poems by books because I...
