P O K E R
Don’t you know that fragrance can be heard? I assume you don’t. Me? Still drooling to ammonia of that heritage moments of ‘us’. So, I decided to scribbled words. Lifeless.
Dang! That was not poetry. That was just words welcoming the aches of cars crashing to a soul. That was looking at insults as I stand in the wet concrete with nothing but empty validation from strangers. That wasn’t poetry. That was me ruthlessly playing poker with the SUN while holding tear-stained recollections in front of ignored mailbox — wishing that emotions are disposable.
Have I mentioned that I was playing cards with the solar then? Sadly, I decided to swallow it, rather than be lost again!
A poem by JinQue RD which was published in an Amazon-best seller book entitled Scentsibility.
Follow JinQue Rd at:
facebook: https://web.facebook.com/AuthorSycamoreWild
instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sycamore_wild/
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
