I find poetry to be an escape. When i write these words the problems i write about, seem to fade away. Being recently diagnosed with MS i feel poetry has become far more usefull to me.
She says she loves Him
He says well I love you more
She asks Really?
How much more?
...
When I place them in my ear
They become my escape
From the world’s ignorance
Pain, and strife
...
Do I continue or cease
The pressure felt has collapsed
Me the body of a young man
With soul in his mid forties
...
At the foot of my city hall lay stairs to nowhere
My city hall holds flags that have lost meaning
It’s become a place for bureaucrats to lay waste in my city
No open doors for citizens so where do I go
...
In 1776, people died for freedom, liberty, Justice
People say it’s what this country was built on
It’s all a lie this country was built on the very things
The pilgrims wished to leave behind
...