Poeta Pages

The watercolors' bleeding Ever felt this way? Like that lost child, you know the one Hoping to find someday How is it my artwork Is denying me this way Runs and layers build To something I did not say I dreamed - I planned Due diligence you see But simply said .... This ain't the canvas I painted for me I've landed in this desert land My feet not where I'd planned A foreigner in this masterpiece Feeling barren and abandon How'd this road so detour From fittin' like a glove I ventured for the free-will path It's my choices I want to love Though round each bend Decisions made Seemingly not by me within Which direction shall I go To gain control and win Right is all that's left But what's left Just brings me back To that place I've been before That leaves me searching evermore So quietly for solace Two stuck feet to go Find themselves upon water's edge Allegory glow For beauty you can't intentionally see Perhaps unless created to be Like tha...

  The place was crowded, noise did resonate Faces all smiling twixt laughter and chatter Found an empty table with a dirty plate and an empty bottle, it did not matter. The seat I did take, surveying the crowd Wondering when at last I might be served The din of laughter was getting quite loud Wanting to shout “ Gar ḉon” , alas, no nerve. To mask my impatience, the bottle I sought Fingered its neck and studied the label The cap was tight, a hard twist had fought When suddenly it slammed, hard to the table. Just as it tumbled, a hard shutter it did make When out popped a genie, much to my surprise I rubbed my eyes quite certain it’s fake Looking about, no one witnessed its rise “look at me!” it did shout to my startled look “the others don’t matter for they cannot see I bring you a message, my form is the hook This is just ‘twixt us, just you, just me.” I stammered and struggle, no words do emerge In raw disbelief that I speak to a cloud I fidget and squirm, them my voice did emerge...