Ryan Geoffrey Hayward | + Follow Poet |
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Notes About The Poem

the gravel of the eighth symbol

I'm so tired
and my heart
is beating
with
my conscious
of the things
with butterflies
in
my tummy
tossing
& turning...
Karma,
shall bring,
no reaching
high to bring
My Epilogue
before
I know
sleep won't bring.
I try imagining
a brick wall here,
like the one
I created
when I was young
and
never made a sound
of flying fists,
strangling
and baby teeth
went flying
waking
here
a little pile
of the bloody
thoughts
flashing
sunshine
to hide
and handcuffed
behind
that wall.
I became
now I wish
to become
not that
monster,
this poetry
is not
helping
and amiss....
I released
to try to be
a man
against his demons,
I really didn't
realized
the important
of a priest's
holy of sermon
and how
in a playground.....
God's word
becomes perverted
to corrupt
the innocent.

There's no colour
that's been drained
of the trembling
of the daisies
to roll
down
the waterfall....
And
the release
is the depths
of swimming
ashore
That wall
is built
and nothing
as he knows
humanity
is to die
and Jesus
will walk here.

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