A Twisted Morse

A Twisted Morse

A Poem by Raven Goodpaster
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Peaking, rising, shrinking, dying.  All is lost with out trace, unhinged from possibility, ceasing to brighten.  The audience becomes aroused at this hallucination, yet deny the knowledge of my existence.  Stars aligning, kind coffee aroma swirling into my bedroom, what a grand time to be alive.  Bipolar streams of light peak through the blinds, reminiscing with past me.  We show teeth, gnarl at the existence of man, yet we rely on their acknowledgement; some, acceptance.  
        My heart beats in bizarre patterns, a twisted morse.  

© 2020 Raven Goodpaster


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Added on April 23, 2020
Last Updated on April 23, 2020
Tags: poetry

Author

Raven Goodpaster
Raven Goodpaster

Columbia, MO



About
I am 17 years old. I love to write fiction and I dabble in poetry. I was born in San Francisco, then I moved to New York, and now...I am in Missouri. I train in Taekwondo and I also play piano. more..

Writing