Scribbler Poem by Romella Kitchens

Never in my life
has there been anything more
beautiful
than words on
a piece of paper
describing the things
that will simply
fade away if
they aren't allowed to
live Bodini, Calibri in ink or
in some justifiable griot's oral history
of stories.
Some where -- if only just
written on a wall in an urban
area where people don't care
and walk past art every day just wanting
to go home,
simply wanting to stop suffering,
words, this poem, that poem, that tiny aphoristic
statement must be said and said gladly.