Giving Breath to a Page
With goosebumps on my freckled skin
I perch waiting for fire within
Consume the doubts o fire inside
For I cannot move forward
If thou must break me more than once
I will stand grounded, opened up
A mirror of this changing rage
The prodigal ways over
I'll slowly construct plans and prints
Erect a tower in their midst
With ink and blood, great cities made.
Through words from text forgotten.
For we all have a voice and words
The me, the you, the him, the her
The us, the them, with trees and stems
We etch our own inscription
And drawing off this masterpiece
We offer at the foot of beasts
Spew forth the words I cannot hold
Presented to the masses.
These stories passed from mouth to ear
Has given solace from our fear
Memories for that which draws us near
Cory Decker
Cory Decker lives in Newfoundland, Canada with his
wife and two children. A lover of books and trees, he has been known to
write a poem or two
Tags:
Poetry
Wow. And that is why I rarely write poetry. Mine pales to mere mist by comparison.
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