Posted in Poems

Poetry’s Bound

My mouth has been shut
My pen has been bound
Such is the fate of sound
My lips have been sealed
And my hands have been cursed
My life is no longer
A word of the first
The ideas that once
Ran so fluently in mind
Have now been removed
With a surgical device
I do not know
The light of the future
Neither what will come to past
If I could pray
I would
If I could sing
I could
But my poetry is bound
To the ground
For the good
Of sound

Author:

I'm a writer, filmmaker, and Human. I think...

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