Questions Not Unalike:
The fear that others
Will find your twisted damnation and judge it's covers
From front to back without ever feeling
The impact of the attack
The fear that our words hurt those who don't understand
I harbour questions not unalike.
I think about it daily, what happens if they see
What if a person who loves me for me
Finds my artistic resonance as ingenuity?
What if he questions my love for him because of a rendition of older times
Presenting my worst moments of sink or swim?
The answer my dear, is that if it's true,
The right people won't have to question you
They won't look right through
And skim the pages red with rage
Blue with colder days
They will understand you as your torment grows out
They will probably harbour the same damnation and love you all the same.
I need somebody who is not afraid
To look my art, my things, the things I make, dead in the face
And have the courage to stay.
Because one damn day, when I find you, when I get to know you,
When I finally lock it down, this thing they call love I've once found
I promise you, whoever you are, you will known damn well you are the only one.
Despite the darker dippings of this shit we call 'art'.
~J.K.M.
YOU ARE READING
2. A Definitive (Poetry)
PoetryNot just poetry for humanity. Poetry for me too. An array of poetry displayed in raw light. "For what it's worth, even words can explain the complications in ones head if you find the time to discover the right sentences." ~J.K.M.
