melissaahowells
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what have you done? --you ask of me I look into you-- your heart is small your brain, an attic, your corrected vision, 20-20, yet, you fail to see who and what surrounds you, brother? you look up and see only stars-- whereas, I know I'm made from them am one with them, and one day will return to them "what have you done (lately/implied) with your life?" you snap... "you are not made of work!" "you are poor, meager!" "you're life is poor and wanting!" "where have you been? " "and...what have you done with your inconsequential life? inside, I am sad-- outside, I smile thinly. you don't/won't see me anymore you try to erase me with words... I'm not a chalkboard upon which you scribble your rambling non-sensical equations. I examine his azure eyes, blue as a cloudless day... and see there the high mountains of our distance. I cannot smile. this is not satisfaction. this is poor tragedy, derived from belligerence and blindness... go Brother-- (whispering) we're strangers I'm the one standing before you as you turn away you deny me what have you done Brother, what have you done? LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 11:11AM 4/20/2020 TIME AND DATE STAMPED...AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER/POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE- MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD Vote for this poem
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