Pieces of me

I tap away at the keys on my board,

Like a man whose gone mad deep within the night.

The power of words relished and adored,

As I share with the world my delight.

 

Screaming my lungs out at the padded walls,

Remembering sunlit days of my past.

Reverberations off of concert halls,

 As of yet I have not shouted my last.

 

So many rhymes that are left unwritten,

Whether they make sense to the world we’ll see.

By my own art I am vexed and driven,

Leaving behind broken pieces of me.

 

And though I am a poet who has gone mad,

It’s my role in life of which I am glad.

 

 

03/22/2022