AR (3-2-1945 / California)

Life Amplified

Sometimes the artistic side of me
The 99 per cent in my brain I seldom use
Seeps out, oozes through my lips
Onto page after blank page
My identity is partially hidden
Forbidden to only but a few
Who knows what’s inside of me
It’s like a time bomb ticking
Licking those elusive verbs and nouns
As they spill into ink stains
A special treat, a sad refrain
Of shattered dreams
As if it mattered to anyone
Will become a bowl of alphabet soup
Don’t know why I keep an old picture
Filled with lines and creases
Of myself
Way up high on the shelf
It’s what I was or could have been
A demarcation of where I let go
Who can hear me now
When I feel like a stepped on wad of gum
Between hell and a dark hole

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