Indulge in that smell of a vibrant cookie
I'm just a rookie with the heart of poetry.
At times I get lonely when no one's there
I spread a utensil on white
My mind wants to see.
Whether I rhyme or free verse, or spread a spoken word,
I express my demeanors of times, past, and present
But I leave out future because my eyes don't blink at fate yet
But I can't forget that my love for written rhymes is locked inside.
My refuge is a cocoon, but I don't hide
My deep thoughts that are sought out by discovery's prize.
No need for fleece blankets to cover me
I need the sunshine, the light of day
The moonly stars at night,
Rain to pour down melancholy's way,
And the snow to secrete the whole sight.
Words are compatbile to my human nature
They are like relatable open chambers
As my vocabulary widens I come to find
Fresh verses to say, no rehearsals or plays.
No special pattern is needed
My poetry seeds aren't produced by influence
But mandating phrases
As moonlight phases capture my emotions
In monthy notions, whipping a sweet batch of my potion.
My sweet gift is God-given,
I may seem gifted, but my rhymes are there for
Life to open ears and listen.
So much for my work of these four times to past
Expressions embedded in my pocket,
Charmed in my locket,
I'll never give up my wrongs when I write.
And if it ain't worth nothing to you, it's worth it in my life
As the past stays the past, present is of today,
Tomorrow's another future.
I embrace this art
A hugging engravement to my heart,
In life I hold onto my past, present, and future.