I have been penning a lot of poetry as of late. I am not to sure as to why now. Maybe I am trying to recapture the time I used to write poetry, years ago. I look at poetry as a short burst of creative energy. Small in size but very powerful, able to convey messages deep from the soul. My main forte will be and always is the political article, but when the feeling for poetry comes, who am I to deny it?
The anger, The pain, The hurt, The stain,
A cancerous tumor from within,
Or a demonic spirit that possesses,
Do I need surgery or an exorcism?
It throbs from within,
You feel the heat protrude,
Your heart beats in rhythms,
Skins tightens and crawls,
You cannot talk,
Do I need surgery or an exorcism?
I must endure pain to release this beast,
So I can taste freedom forever,
Who gave me this gift,
Society and my parents.
