Poetry Runs Through These Veins
There is poetry that runs freely through these veins
Authentic eccentric even society could never change.
For the poetry that runs through these veins
Comes from years of criticism, rejection and pain
Check the poetry in these veins that runs.
Born from carrying the weight placed on
shoulders heavy like boulders as the world
grows colder.
Original Poetree is the name for it is me
I am he whether or not you choose to believe
That it ’s the poetry running through these veins
That has set me free.
Yes indeed none shall impede the energy
Possessed to succeed and become all
I am mean to be phonetically poetically
I indulge in the banquet of prose as the
Poetry continues to runs its course through the
veins inside of me. Call it gluttony call it greed.
This poetry does not ask permission it breaks down doors
From the tip of the pen to the sole of the feet walking along
The poetic path on the floor.
There is poetry that runs through these veins from my
Creative core.
It screams at 3 AM when the world is sleeping. It’s not waiting for applause
or publication, or validation.
in the space between
your listening
and my speaking.
This poetry is alive.
not the kind that sits pretty in coffee shops
waiting to be discovered,
There is poetry that runs through these veins—
not the kind you find pressed between pages
of dusty anthologies,
that pulses with every heartbeat,
that courses through capillaries like lightning through storm clouds.
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