#penned
I know these people.
Their voice box doesn’t even need to be awake.
I know their character by the way their lips are dressed.
A streak of blue,
I know their brain is sweating stress.
A display of rose,
I know their flirtatious fever is always contagious.
A heap of crust,
I know their anger stings the meaning of trust.
A stream of moisture,
I know their soul sooths and heals the shadows.
A thin size,
I know they seek comfort in a box.
A big size,
I know they feed off centre stage.
A nest of cuts,
I know they want the gift of love.
Justine Louisy
Copyright © Justine Louisy 2020
All Rights Reserved
Jul 25, 2020
Jul 25, 2020 at 1:15 PM UTC
it is strange to see
irregular lines scrawled
across the page
in some small way I made them
helped to shape from where they came
then it slowly dawned on me
they could be better than anything
I have ever penned to page
Mar 3, 2020
Mar 3, 2020 at 5:38 PM UTC
No one seems to realize
Who I really am and all
The hurt inside me
Has been thoroughly hidden
Deeply within every poem
My exhausted hands have penned.
I’ve yet to be found.
-ARI
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 6:18 PM UTC
Momma!
I am your poem.
From that mountain hole
Too many pains left
And from the island of the vexation
A little pleasure on the journey twinkle They made a missiles
I was fabricated just below your heart
And I am the part of it
Just by planting a tree farm
Trouble dirts your hands
I was penned from composition of roughness
And I am the stanzza of it
Thunder thrown out of your eyes
They are more expensive than pearls
Drinking nano water
I was masterminded
And I am the Masterpiece of it
The debt too scared by itself
Searching for fertilizer tissue
Selling the blood of your own
I was painted from the words of penalty
And I am the same book of it
Momma ! I'm not a poetess
I am your poetry ....
Nov 22, 2017
Nov 22, 2017 at 9:02 PM UTC
You reside in my eyes and flow through my tears, so I let you rest on my cheek for a while before you fall away from me.
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 4:09 PM UTC