"halleluia" poems
It is the brush
that still grows
and slowly dies
from the hazel
string of fire.
Like a violin,
it fills the entire room
with electrity
red-hot, oxygen
making it grow
stronger and stronger.
Until a burst of thunder
claps for an encore.
It must seem to not seem
like that ream
of paper, lying
on the carpet, blank
and waiting for a soul
to touch it with
his fingers
and poke it
with a pencil, and
then, again and
again.
Until he meets
himself in the middle,
and cries out
Halleluia!
It's over,
the flames
disappearing
behind the curtain.
Oct 13, 2009
Oct 13, 2009 at 12:17 PM UTC
Your Ugly its final
Its ok though not good
No you didnt choose to but it happen
Do you scare, that i wont say and yes you have value
The mirrors have confessed and darkness delights in you
surgical blades await by your pockets with good news of change
Lame by looks and pure by heart
Short in looks but heighted in thinking
Strange at working comparable to strength
So why are you Ugly, did they mix a wrong formula of you
Alittle far to be approached though to the same breathe air is breathed
Same light day moves
Your cells must have gone insane, a strike of late appearance for even bombers stand great in beauty
You mean you mind them because you look different
Then dig through talent walk high in mayhem of focus
Smile halleluia talk maturity it never meant to happen am sure you took a wrong face in a hurry thus return it, assemble all men and women alike return their property and claim yours, choose one you feel comfortable with at your cost
Dont look suspicious for you may never get a chance to win and a chance to live as free opportuned by nature
Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 2:58 AM UTC