on the blank white page the poet bears his soul emotions spill the hardships joys and heartaches told we gain an insight by reading his narrative his words proliferate our minds with his explanatory lines the poet's ink is indelible on the page of his life experiences we engage
Had a way with words Had a way with these many letters All scrunched together Scrambled to the edges that hold them together I don't know what I'm writing Don't care enough to know that I am writing. Confusion and confusion beguiles me as I scrunch and scramble more words.
Holed up in a bed With a few blankets A running nose Temperature as hot as a fire Poor throat, my poor throat Letting lose of the dust at its base A running nose A blocked nose Hidden ears burning forehead sick.