Dragging around you a zephyr rips through every rift,
Lighter that before your skeleton lifts.
Scooping you up it lends you cats feet,
Toes and dust barely make ends meet.
Swirling down and lapping at your heels,
Or restraining you in a hurricane like feel.
Crushing you in an airy embrace,
Trailing after you in a childish chase.
Its empty voice whispers humor in your ears,
Your pause to listen and laugh seems witless to your peers.
Looker ons may vocalize that your crazy,
But their whispers flow in and out each ear leaving you hazy.
You may feel that due to the way you communicate you have sinned,
But it's okay to be different, okay to not blend in.
Because your listening to yourself,
Your listening to the wind.
YOU ARE READING
Laugh with a Draft
PoetryI wrote a poem, I sometimes do that. __ But in finality and purity, these words mean so much- yet I'm blinded by their insincerity. All this is, is a dishonest fold of revelation, self-accusation, and starvation. And so much more, more to be rimmed...
