Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#passeddown
You stirred the *** Taking parts of you. Parts of me. The good, the bad. Even the things that aren’t So pretty to look at. And poured them into The pan. It’s easy to forget about The hurt until you come Face to face with it. Sour peaches aren’t the end Of the world. No matter how we layer it. These are the things we’ve Come to love about each other. Even the hurt becomes mixed In a sugar glaze with enough time. No matter how bitter. The brown of my skin Mixed with yours. A recipe that’s been done And passed down before our time. No matter how much of a mess We think that things are, No matter how bruised a peach We accidentally pick up. Nothing can replace the warmth Of a cobbler. Straight from the oven. Soon we’ll both be fast asleep. Your head rising and falling on my chest With each breath I take.
0
Jul 30, 2024
Jul 30, 2024 at 12:48 PM UTC
Peach Cobbler
When I feel lost in this world full of potential and twists and turns When I feel I have no place in structured conversations and I barely recognize my face When I have no friends nor foes or at least I can't see them anymore my aunt, my cousin, my dad propose that art is always open that poetry will always listen and my history is my token I am the culmination of my family's art So I will work and tear myself apart with verses and rhymes and paintings and designs 'Cause our history has no end so long as on my shoulders it dipends
0
Mar 21, 2021
Mar 21, 2021 at 2:31 PM UTC
History