Hop, Sing

7 Jul

I hop, I sing, I skip-

I’m stuck.

I breathe fire, I’m free, I laugh, Haaaa-

-Ah! I gasp.

I’m exuberant and glorious! I’m shining, I’m the sun!


I’m cold.

and wet.

and scared.

I refuse to be bottled. I demand to be let free.

Writhing wrists, defiant fists….

I think we should be singing. Maybe….

I am transfixed. I am uncertain.

for an eternity I am uncertain.

even my death will be uncertain.


…With that said, I wish my poetry had more intelligence in it. But one step at a time, right? This is the first poem I’ve made in a while, after all. And I’ve never been a fan of poetry. Like a lot of modern poets or casual teenage poets who write it….hehe. Ah well. A lazier and easier way of expressing yourself while still being a bit interesting and creative in the delivery. Some mystery and hinting. Like how everything now is an inside-joke or an inside-thing. Which might also be okay, who knows. So many people.


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