Poem By Michael Heraly

A tug, a pull from the inside
And the outside as well
A soul begins to divide
And collapse in on itself

Wealth, love, drunk and sober
Which way, which direction
When the collection is over
What is there to offer?

Some scoffers, some saints
They both paint a pretty picture
Both self-portraits
In a world full of liquor

Which way, which direction
Can a suction pull, how far
Can it go, how deep is the power
Like a rising or falling star

A world full of liquor
In which we can win or lose
Which way, which direction
It's your intoxication to choose

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Other poems of HERALY

Moments Of Vision

Tracking down, hunting to catch
One moment of time before it passes
Before it changes, before it's gone
Like solids to liquids and liquids to gasses

Solid Cage

Lost in solids, a cage
That will not fit
The panic builds to rage
Can't run, can't stand, can't sit

In Between The Lines

In between the lines
Of dark and light
Is the nervous, the unsure
Unready to fight


Frantically covering
The ball of shame
With sand that will not stay
Digging and tossing about

When A Nerve Twitches

A striving for the riches
Surrendered to the stitches
Surgery on the soul
Botched and untrained