Poetry

My Poem Does Not Lie

Surfacing From the Plains of Nothing
And Growing Into Mammoth Banyans,
Forcing My Fingers to Pen
What I May Be Shy To Otherwise.
I Wonder How With Each Verse
That It Comes To Life,
My Poem Shares Bits of Me
With The Other Poems.

They Converse,
Hush-Hush At Times,
At Times, Aloud.
They Make One Another Ponder
As To What You Have
That I Miss A Lot
And What Do I Own
That You May Seek.

In The End, After All,
What Matters Is
How with Each Word
And With Each Verse,
My Senses, My Mood,
My Bad and My Good,
Everything Would
Fluidly Fly,
After All, No Matter What I Say,
My Poem Does Not Lie.


Photo Credit: LubosHouska

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