Maintenance, repetition spiralling in summer’s pressures-
Discomfort through a magazine of luxury, smiles and cold drinks.
Humpled by humble nature.
back pains and bloodied noses, but we were always here.
Jagged little lines, we were bullied into change, the cycle was ripped from the flesh of the youth.
And now our filter remains, a lonely plod in the dried up field.
Stretch my arm and watch the world cry, my hand that nurtures, my hand that softens.
Abandoned and in disrepair, in an elephant stable, beyond a border of compromise, unrestorable. We listened.
Why do we find our passion bent around an ugly reality? But the sigh that chartered our lungs and blossomed our hearts bloomed pettles from muddied scars, home only to sorrow.
Still we bloom.
Still we blossom.
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Well I sure did not have to wait long! Ha
Amazing
There is something about the way you write that captures me
Thank you for sharing with us, and I hope there is more to come
Much love, poet🙂
Thank you so much! Sorry, I only just discovered how to reply lol!
Your work has thoroughly peaked my interest. I like your writing style.