BreakthroughA Poem by Not hereWhat do you think? I'm trying to get back into my groove.
What do you call this?
A breakup or a breakthrough? A bulls-eye or a big miss? A broken record or just new? Some say I'm a masterpiece, I just smile at their flattery. Some say I'm a big disaster, so why do they stay long after? Emotions like fuel running through my veins; Try to hold me down but it won't sway my furious funneling of fearlessness for anything that stands in my way. I'll bust down the door. I could be what I choose, when I choose, how I say it. I'm tired of living in fear, hiding from daytime. It's about time, overdue time, that I start rhymes instead of sitting around, it's time I say it and spray it. Rhyme schemes? Forget rhyme schemes. This is my time, I'm my own king. I roll through, just bowl through any pin in my own road too. Cold days, I just roll plays; see Shakespeare, in his old years? Didn't slow down, didn't take a bow, until all of his work was finished. "Wow!" Now me here, I'm no Picasso, even if my work's similar as snow. Snow flakes are just milkshakes on steroids without all the taste. But they're all so unique you say? Just like my works I referenced, aye? Agree? Disagree? Somewhere in the middle? I'm sorry I can't argue with you or even piddle. I got work to do, things to write, stuff to see. Places to be, if you know what I mean. So give me that mic, that pike, that stick. Watch me stick the landing jumping out of this pit. It's time for a breakthrough with a little bit catastrophe. See ya when I land, but for now, this is all Me.
© 2015 Not hereAuthor's Note
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Added on February 28, 2015Last Updated on September 17, 2015 Tags: Breakups, Comebacks, Love, Contentness Author
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