thereís a broken woman

thereís a broken woman in my kitchen
demanding immediate entrance to sanity
without coherence or humility
daring all of us with brash news
and strange tales of futility

itís just another day
who are we to tell the difference
between narcistic protuberance
and dark desires intent to rule
with fear and intimidation

there is a kind of solitude
or perhaps it is a kind of waiting
in the lonely tides of told time
folding ordinary realities
into small bundles of forgetfulness

sedimentary rivers of no disdain
retains a certain kind of tellable truism
hand carved and sold for pittance
on markets undone and gone
before the selling of the she male

leave no matter unturned
let no darkness dictate
the moments you have
there is no point
in being nice to the malicious




Poetry by Bob The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 103 times
Written on 2017-04-19 at 20:34

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Helen Paquin
Last two lines- very well said. I agree.
2017-04-20


LFD3
You've caught her very well. Please let her in...tell us the next episode.
2017-04-19