Free Verse
NEVER POINT YOUR FINGER
NEVER POINT YOUR FINGER Never point your finger when your hands are far from clean, You may think you hide your dirt, but I can see what lies between. You throw your words like daggers, thinking I will take the blame, But shit often gets flung back, and it rarely misses the same.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 4 months ago in Poets
WHO PICKS THE ROADS WE TAKE?
WHO PICKS THE ROADS WE TAKE? Who picks the roads we take when the morning starts to rise, Do we choose the paths before us, or are they written in disguise? Some roads are bright and shining, with the sunlight dressed in gold, While others hide beneath the shadows, where the bitter winds blow cold.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 4 months ago in Poets
More of Self
The words they call Shakespeare Where is my pound of flesh In the darker side of humanity I expelled it across My ledger of creation From behind and below From the inside out I could use Damocles I guess That has stuck with me All my life It To proliferate My art In the shadow of the perilous sword My want Is to feel the Steinbeck In me, the understanding, beauty But the horror Without hiding Behind a ledger of Anything grey or black Was almost always more intriguing Or made the pure and good Even more impressive Forth with Jekyll My doctor my captain They The bastard I am doubt And cannot ignore All my Degraded egos And My own Disintegration In spite of Victor I am more Of self And dare each and every one Of you Out there To question validity And artistry As if communing with Those who came before Hemingway or Joyce Who echoed the halls Of history Through their fingers And felt the pains Of humanity In their hearts
By Paul Stewart4 months ago in Poets
