Feelings Sacred

I don’t write for you,

I write for me

 

To dream each dream,

in darkness freed

 

All gifts unwrapped,

my table set

 

My voice as spoken,

no regrets

 

I don’t speak for you,

I speak for me

 

The trails I’ve bloodied,

scars decree

 

Each moment purchased,

verses loaned

 

My feelings sacred

—words my own

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)

 

 

 

 

 

Non Grata

I’ve made a veritable art form

out of ignoring others

 

Taken it to the highest level,

its crown made out of thorns

 

Turning my back and looking away,

denying their importance

 

A world where they do not exist

—no insult could hurt more

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)

To Torch And Burn

Masquerading in a church full of dreams,

all parishioners in their pews

 

The preacher straightens his mask and starts,

a sermon old renewed

 

Hellfire and brimstone come roaring out,

 words to torch and burn

 

His face staying hidden as the nightmare unfolds

—the congregation’s dreams left spurned

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)