This is not poetry

Every disturbance is a drop of molten gold
This is not poetry
This is
Desperation

Desperation
To cry out aloud
When all those doors close
And all you can do is bang each door

If that’s all
Bang with music
And hands might bleed and stink
Drops of red molten gold

Open doors
I do dream of
Yet I fear
I may have loved the red golden one

I beat the doors
I bleed my hands
As those doors have closed
I am not lonely

My company
Those drops of molten gold

15 thoughts on “This is not poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s