Whispers of a Voice
i am a poet
dont tell me what kind of poet to be
dont define me
dont box me
you bastard
you fing son of a b&^ch
i am a poet
im not sure how good I am
I try not to think of it
I just try to f&cking write
something good is coming of this
it ebbs and flows
sooner or later I find the truth and it comes out
the inner self
cut down by the violent smash of a car
whispers here and there
of a voice of the ages
whispers
O I wish that humanity
could help me develop these whispers
into a voice
of the ages.
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