The dreary glow of the imagination
Gleams through closed doors like writer’s block
Prohibiting the illumination of creativity…
A withered seed,
Powerless;
Its nakedness reveals its vulnerability
And inability to persevere what’s left in its animation,
Cry to survive,
Replenishing precipitation through pain
Although the aim is unfocused;
Although to strive is to die in vain
And is to live joy through pain,
And is to suffer through the limited trail of happiness
And contentment to bring cheerfulness to sadness;
To understand the undisclosed
And vital secrets
Whether unimportant or significant,
The magnitude of I is beyond the eye,
Somewhat imperative,
Limited consequence,
The mind squints to focus on blind objectives
As if the directive were to chastise,
As if an attempt were to penalize
Anything that I wanted to be,
Whether I were a dreary glow of light,
Whether my mind were to fight
With the pressures of writer’s block;
My fists knots at attempt
To shake the walls of this foundation they have built
For my life to be non-exempt,
I won’t quit until these hands bleeds
And these legs pressures my body
To collapse to my knees…
I won’t plea,
My prayers rests within the heart of me.
Written/Submitted By: Je’Tarri Vinnisinni, ©All rights reserved.
