Some Unfiltered Thoughts.
Unfiltered Thoughts.
One too many
flicks of a bic,
whether between
closing or opening a pen
only to seek a light
and I might
become a Cancer,
instead of a Libra.
The scales
unbalanced
by the weight
of a ponderous
abnormal mass,
constricting my lungs,
perhaps stealing
a poet's voice.
From poetic diction,
to addiction
to perhaps a final
benediction
where life
becomes fiction
from tiny rolled
up bits of paper
death's prediction.
And what is a poet
without a voice?
A mime translating
thoughts on paper,
till the death
certificate is signed....
and no one reads
such self pitying trash
such as that.
©-MFB III
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