Poetry

 Poetry

There's An Echo

As I'm Walking

Several Stories Underground

To My Dimly Lit

Bench

Secluded

On The Far End

Of The Train Platform

All My Subway Prose

Flow Smoothly Here

As The Rest Of The

Overly Bright

Overly Noisy

World Vanishes

Oh

How I Love The Dark

The Mechanics

Of This Cavern

The Poem Scroll

Lengthens

Unnecessary Words Omitted

No Punctuation Wanted

It's Straight

To The Point

And Not Open For Debate

Your Misunderstanding

Strengthens My Resolve

The Words Flow Faster

The Lines Grow 

Shorter

Remnants Of Fragments

Going From Mind

To Pen

To Paper

And Back Again

I Could Write Here

For Hours

Under The Warm Glow

Of These Ancient

Humming

Fluorescent Bulbs

These Are Stories

Trapped In The Shadows

That Only I Can See

Suddenly

A Revelation

I Am Now Exactly

What I'm Supposed To Be

In A Time I Don't Belong In

An Unknown Artist

Broken By Life

Now Comfortable

This Is Where I Belong

In The Shadows

With My Art

This Wielding Power

Gives Me The

Privilege

Of Telling People

To Fuck Off

A Lot