When am deep in my world
My head spinning to the sounds of silence
Breathing the air of violence
Bleeding,my arm on my ribs
On my knees as flashes of doted lines upon my concrete roof
Pine curved into rugged,rough edges spelling my life’s pages
Words I could say,sipped through the tongue into oblivion
Rhythms I could have sung
Never to capture the ears of men.unheard!
Unheard are my thoughts,
The seed of my existence,the power of my essence
Never to be!
Clenched fists,no stories of punches
All the doves I enslaved in my fist,never set free into the sky
All the soaring eagles I offered a bed to lie
Peaceful slumber,to think I heard a reply!
Daniel Kemp’s Books