poetry
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A severed branch Laying in withered leaves Inches from a flowering tree Disconnected from life An adrift soul Lingering in an ailing world Distant from The Great Healer Disconnected from life FOLLOW ME: Instagram Facebook
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The work cries out to me Calling out my name Begging to be finished Saying I’m the one All others pass me by Gazing at the load Either not raising a finger Or adding to the load The vain in my head throbs Like a bomb ready to blow Sweat glistens on my
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(Originally written on Monday April 1, 2013 Trying to make a poem On a Monday morning. Some find poetry fun. Others find em’ boring. I sit outside the classroom. The door is still locked. I wait for my professor As I check the clock. My classmates are standing. Me, I’m sitting down.
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If you learn not to forgive, Then a burden you shall live. And as you hold a grudge in life, You’ll be filled with grief and strife (Originally written on October 5 2013)
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In bed feel flustered Cause I won’t get the job I applied for last month, Feeling I’ve been robbed Of something I’d be good at it. Writing is my passion. Kudos to whom was chosen I can only imagine What qualifications they had How more suited they could be I applaud other writers
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(Written originally on March 3, 2014) My mind is at ease On this brisk winter night, Sitting at my desktop, With my lamp glowing bright. As of now nothing matters- Not those quizzes online, Those asinine assignments, Or newspaper deadlines. I write in my journal About today and yesterday, Then of three
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(Originally written on January 11, 2014) I am a child of the King, Or so I say I am. How can I speak His words And not abide by them? Those of the world who know Him not, they can be justified. For all of their transgressions They know not what they do.
DavidSpeaks 