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.