Mistake (Pantoum)

It tastes like copper. It’s musky like defeat. It just clings to you.

I pivot around the thought. I balance my hope on a plinth to see

How it holds against the strain, to see if I can build something of value.

To grow is to learn. To learn is to suffer in a dance with chances. Continue reading

4/1: A Sonnet for Fools

There are only twenty four hours in

the day, yet you spend your time perfecting

the art of foolery by selecting

denial over truth. You are far more in

tune with a man who sleeps and wears thin

his opportunities while respecting

the false comforts of pride. It’s affecting

your steps and hindering your growth. Where in

your heart must I search to find the pieces

of your senses that you willfully have

decommissioned from your thoughts? What ceases

to fit has either grown or shriveled. Have

you not noticed the collapse of your heart

…the way it…fails to properly supply demands?