Poems from Gilee
My wordsMy artm You have no right to throw it out. You can call it trashI don’t mind. Just know thisIt is mine. Here’s the clicheOne “...
I write everyday. Not in a disciplined, Organized way. It spills out Like effluent Contaminating the clean white paper Waiting for...
Sometimes the soulRises up. Dances in the sky. SometimesIt liesDefeated on the ground. •Somtimes theWind gently blowsThrough the fieldsOf...