Making plans
Manipulating phrases
Chiseling poetry:
Fallen, forgotten, worlds
Nostalgia, fear
Connection, obsession.
7 worded nights
Fighting after they’ve taken
Your will to live
Fighting with nothing left to lose
Fighting with fingers
Mashed into
A potato fist
Clashing batons
Whipping, slashing rounds
And I’ll stand in the middle of
The battleground
With little, but
Crippled fists
From bashing faces
Into misconceptions
Of “art”
Only the greats would envy
If they could only see
If the product
Wasn’t so impermanent
As a newly born author
Picking up his first pen
In the street
Outside his first
Wholesale purchase
Of cheap liquor.
