We Raised Up A Beast
My free verse, where are you going? Breaking that line, you’ve grown up a monster. You’ve gone too far, when a few words would do it. Argh, you started looking like a prose.
(By the way, you look pretty…
ugly, you know.)
Now you constraint yourself
to a word or two
to be disguised as a poem.
You like to believe you have a lot to say. “Not so fast… Poet, don’t stand in my way. You granted me freedom of movement.”
‘Right, but time to sleep.
Tomorrow I hope I find you under my bed.
Discover more from Reveries That I Call Poetry
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Pages: Page 1, Page 2, Page 3, Page 4, Page 5, Page 6, Page 7, Page 8, Page 9, Page 10, Page 11, Page 12, Page 13, Page 14, Page 15, Page 16, Page 17, Page 18, Page 19, Page 20, Page 21, Page 22, Page 23, Page 24, Page 25, Page 26, Page 27, Page 28, Page 29, Page 30, Page 31, Page 32, Page 33, Page 34, Page 35, Page 36, Page 37, Page 38
Reveries That I Call Poetry 
One thought on “Anthology Reveries that I call Poetry | by T!el Fajardo”