Tomas Vincent Marra Poet Free verse

Little God

I am no poet
Only a little God
That
Writes like one
words 
In
The 
Bell tower 
here A lovely wound 
Burns 
Where my chest laboured
And 
Emaciates 
The 
Fiction I
Carry
No longer divine,
I will 
Likely drown
In the wake 
Of 
This
Humanity
You would do better to 
Find someone else 
To read.
These words 
Rocks
Falling off of
The mountain
Hard and 
Asleep at the wheel
They will crush you 
As you speak

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