I embedded myself,
To the walls of this pages.
I let my blood flow,
Painting this pages
With my fingers,
As the brushes.
Gently stroking the pages
I let myself do the calligraphy..
I gave myself to this paper
When I finished writing,
I rolled a joint,
As if to captivate my troubles
Couldn't wait to light it up
Just to watch sorrow float
So confidently in air
Like to the quiet sea,
A weary boat.
© feddiesharkhy
YOU ARE READING
Running from reality
PoetryI write better than I speak. Poetry that speaks to the soul, flows from the endless fountain that is my heatt
