Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Tera-ShepherdPoems
To divine the truth, is to define a miracle -- since you asked I'll reach into the bag of both realigned and canned answers I keep with the good intention of weaving old wools for you, into wisdom anew, just for you Hell, I'd rather reach inside my lungs, scrape with ten jagged fingernails at lining sprayed with silver by what's become known as better judgment until the flesh caught underneath peels away There's gotta be more to this exhaling exchange of words than we've let on constructions of construction in the destruction come from centuries of hard and stark speech revision for science Ever open restaurant rooftop under four grounded legs, four gazing eyes Sky scape splashed navy painted dusk You ask lightly, highly of me How do humans rust? A burlap bag broke in bleeding insides I reach deeper into my recesses the cavities keeping my trying heart intact and pull that bleating piece of trash up through my teeth and cough up for you Is there a soul there? Is there a soul there? Is there a soul there?
0
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 3:53 AM UTC
Ladder Rungs
To divine the truth, is to define a miracle -- since you asked I'll reach into the bag of both realigned and canned answers I keep with the good intention of weaving old wools for you, into wisdom anew, just for you Hell, I'd rather reach inside my lungs, scrape with ten jagged fingernails at lining sprayed with silver by what's become known as better judgment until the flesh caught underneath peels away There's gotta be more to this exhaling exchange of words than we've let on constructions of construction in the destruction come from centuries of hard and stark speech revision for science Ever open restaurant rooftop under four grounded legs, four gazing eyes Sky scape splashed navy painted dusk You ask lightly, highly of me How do humans rust? A burlap bag broke in bleeding insides I reach deeper into my recesses the cavities keeping my trying heart intact and pull that bleating piece of trash up through my teeth and cough up for you Is there a soul there? Is there a soul there? Is there a soul there?
Tera-Shepherd
Written by
Tera-Shepherd
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 3:53 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem