Colourless chaos curated to tell my story I’m turning a page as I scribe my tomorrow Taking a moment. I hold a glass to my mouth
By Lalana Balea4 years ago in Poets
Dear Donald Trump, I’m begging for change and no not the loose change in your pockets that my brothers and sisters call their annual bonus.
“I cannot breathe” Suffocating in the silence of those who will not speak over the lost lives of those who no longer have the privilege to, speak.
Forever seemed far gone from my present reality It was your presence which birthed cause for my fatality You gifted me with anguish disguised as affection
Let them them in No let them out The demons from within telling you to give in You’ll never look like her Pout your lips and fix your eyes
Sun rise and sun fall The seeds of yesterday set. Here you are in anticipation for the flowers of tomorrow Only nourished by the precipitation of yesterday’s sorrows
You look like art to me. My whole heart, and it’s yours for keeps. I fell for a smile mere miles away Fear flies away when I think about, you.
I am a flame sheltered by ice When you hold me can you sense my spirit? One that screams in silence, And passions although loud