melissaahowells
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inside this cell (where I live) I type away inside this little cave (my heart) and there are many more like me-- of my kind in equal cells and caves who scribble or type and pound away on little clicking keys punch on clacking plastic making words sentences for ourselves to read and trying to make sense of it all-- but who will read us who will care this is not even a page it cannot be burnt nor is it indellible all words fade away as I age I've seen those living in little cells I've witness words pouring from caves streaming out from fading eyes crumbling pie-crust dreams the unspoken hopes of sputtered-out youth the long agos of what could have been what is now within this little cell inside my tiny cave and in the smaller places where I dwell the large pains I share with the few I manage to hold onto now I do my best to share using clicking keys to write brief sentences which could never contain within them an entire life how does it come to this this smallness this meanness this estimation of one's life? ******** LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM WRITTEN FROM THE HEART DIRECTLY TO THE KEYS 7:52 pm PACIFIC STANDARD TIME--TIME AND DATE STAMPED AND ALSO FOR THIS FADING POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALL COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE IF IT DOES ANY GOOD AT ALL...ONE MORE CHECK IN FROM MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD edits 11:26AM PST 9/13/2019 I think this will make much more sense to those who previously did not understand. Vote for this poem |
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