Left Pocket
My heart le into his left pocket
a d
p e
t l
onto the floor w
and cra
My Poetry
Every Time
every time
i get zapped for my energy
and think i can’t
write anything
some new shit happens
&
I’m back
into my grind
trying desperately
to get rid
of my inspiration
A Poem Can Be
a poem
can hurt or hate, can feel abandon…and reckless
it can joke
and lie
and speak
and whisper all the things you want them to hear
a poem
can have secrets
when the soul is too heavy to carry them
it can live
in the bruised skin on your knuckles
and just beneath the ducts in your eyes
can hold you
feed you
miss your voice as its reading
it can be
a listening friend when everyone else
ignores the screaming
The Poetry Corner 