No one ever knows
the rhymings of my poetry
blob of words combined
And so do I.
In between these rigid lines
Are invisible tears and smiles
Passing through windows
Of soul through the eyes
Daring to touch every strands
Til the inner glands
What do I know, who am I?
I am just a typist who takes part
of my own indefinite poet heart.
May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 9:17 AM UTC
No one ever knows
the rhymings of my poetry
blob of words combined
And so do I.
In between these rigid lines
Are invisible tears and smiles
Passing through windows
Of soul through the eyes
Daring to touch every strands
Til the inner glands
What do I know, who am I?
I am just a typist who takes part
of my own indefinite poet heart.
This might be the very first poem I've written whose the subject is me.. or you.. or us. :)
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