Black Poetry : True Identity

N2urSoul

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Mar 17, 2001
3,955
1
Minneapolis, MN
Occupation
Director, Community Employment Strategies
Corners harbor dust --
mites
Shadows make waste...
Moods of you and I
dance privately in a room
... to 1 beat ...

The trees bear your
soul's unrest, tampered
by uneasiness --

Thoughts ~ marked
in birch-ROWAN-wood;
stained ... AMBER ...I,
always err on the
side of truth and
(I)dentit(he),

... but you can't see me
because you hide ...
I grow old
... social butterflies fill the air ...
as a lonesome dove
wishing to be nearer
flying away into
yester days
when you swept your
nakedness into that
small section of a place

I want you in my
'forever' space ... not
just sometimes or on an
occasion
and not in
all four corners of
the room


(c) 2001 SOULOFASISTA
 

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