"misstate" poems
Wordless my inferior stance yells to be heard
Wheeling the throe of malice to infuriate
The thwarted truth to expose itself, as deterred
Blows, cower the truth in drier misstate
Justifying tears that cascade the willowed floor
Dwelling my eyes to Illusions in a bid to recall blissful memories,
Thus allowing my heart’s pleas to implore
The day after tomorrow to pacify my tearful cries
Wandering the pits of my darkened incarceration
My voice threatened to silence, by my bleeding furrows,
As my life thwarts forward, perplexed by the sanguine
Moat that had been conceived by those endless blows
Dealing my words, to the fatalities dwelling in fear,
Fear no more for as long as you have a voice there will be an ear to hear
Jun 16, 2010
Jun 16, 2010 at 3:33 AM UTC