Paper Mountain
Thighs so brown and thick
Ebony eyes that have depth
I’m that weird poet chick
Who eats alone writing poems
I know I look self absorbed
My papers are my best friends
And my pen rights my sins
I’m so proud of my loud thoughts
That I jot them down like
Plato or Aesop didn’t beat me
I figure perhaps someone will drink
From the same poetic fountain
Maybe find some solace
In my paper mountain
The reality is that I am free
To be myself single rather boring
But at peace with my poetry
Copyright © Karen Jones | Year Posted 2024
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