Poems To Burn
her thoughts, dolorous, often smolder in her mind
long before they are penned upon paper
often crumpled and disregarded
like kindle for a fire
they call them poems anyway
she is inferior, a mere neophyte
fueled by inhibition
that flounders her way through life
and on the page alike
yet they call her poet
perhaps she has the providence
from her youth as her guide
to rid those memories
or spark the fire that burns
as she pens what they call poetry
she doesn't see her worth
between her words
or lecherous stares
cast from unworthy men
that burnt through her soul
she remembers only
a collection of bombast thoughts
that haunt her mind
as she writes them out
then damns them
through the flames of memory
yet they call it poetry
June 12, 2019
Copyright © Sandra Adams | Year Posted 2019
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