Poem4

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    Poem4

    I walk down the hall and people stop and stare at me but I don’t care.

    I’ll be fair, I’m crazy and I know it.

     

    I can’t help the words that flow from my head to my mouth.

    I speak them to myself.

    They cry to be heard no matter how absurd that may seem.

     

    I can’t hold them inside trust me I have tried.

    They just are too powerful to be denied any longer.

     

    So if you see me in the halls and my mouth moving with tongue just know I’m talking to myself.

    Please do not disturb because my turn to speak might be next.

    I will be vexed if I miss it.

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    sawdust commented on Poem4

    07-29-2009

    i to have been told by people that i talk to myself and i say i have to because somtimes i need a intelligent answer good write good originality you kept your focus i like that

    Bobcatmoon commented on Poem4

    05-21-2009

    thats what happens with the ones that are creative...those are seperate in their own unique way like unicorns....

    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

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