I'm twenty three

Young, wild and free

Youth is a fleeting dream

Only to be rudely awakened at thirty-five

Just to realize that all the pleasures you bought into were a lie

But I’m twenty-three

Still learning to breathe

Still learning to see myself for I truly am

I guess I’m just like this poem

Free on verses

But revert to rigid rhythms

Just to make people listen

See I did it

But you hardly noticed: guess you weren’t listening

Or reading

But don’t forget

I’m twenty-three

My future still a beautiful dream

Tranquil on the outside but not as calm as it seems

So I guess I am a simile

As and like

Comparisons

Comparing my selves to others

Like teenage boys in adolescence

Till my identity and essence

I got lost in the crowd in an attempt to fit in.

 

But don’t forget

I’m still twenty-three

With the face, I had since when I was sixteen

And believed that first love, at first sight, meant first and last

But instead,

First love was the first to go at last

For what it is worth

You said forever, but it didn’t last

But past is past

I’m still twenty-three

Still yet to know what it means to be free

Still, a lot to achieve

But at least I can express myself through poetry

Through metaphors and similes

The art has become an artist.

The storyteller becomes the story

That’s me

At least I’m my own person, not a wannabe 

But I am twenty-three

This youth a fleeting dream

So, soon I would be thirty-five

Teaching my kids how to live right

To realize, that the truth is free when you don’t buy lies.

 

©conversations_47

 

 

 

      

Loving you is poetry and war

You are the poem

I never planned on writing

You are the war

I never planned on fighting

But here I am

Here I am

Armed with nothing

But words

Armed with nothing

But words and a pen

The ink flows like bullets

From a gun

My pen

Rests comfortably on my hands

My speech stutters

Like the fluttering wings

Of a songbird

I found my voice

Like a lost child in the woods of your embrace

To enchanted to be scared

To scared to be enchanted

People often say

"Fools rush in where angels fear to tread "

But I am the fool

Because I followed an angel here

This was the battle manhood has taught me to dread

The one poem stuck in my head

Consisting of sonnets

Verses

Stanzas

Verses

Guns

Swords

And soliders

This is the battle

Where  the heart takes over from the head

A coup d'etat

If you will

Bending strong will to soft spots

So here I stand

Waving my white flag

I surrender to you now

My verses will speak about you

These guns ready to defend you

My sonnets versed to adore you

Because you are the poem

I never planned to write

You are the war

I never planned to fight

But its an irony

How war and poetry is compared

To loving you

©conversations_47

2020

Decisions

Today I told my demons no
I said Satan be gone
And use the back door
My sins has made me to
Buy in to passions I couldn't afford
I owed a bill
Now the gates of hell
And their  windows were open before me
Today I told my demons no
No to this habits I once craved
No to the desires to be of lawlessness and the insane
No to the instant pleasure
And the torture of undying flames of my conscience
No to the pain
No to the self disdain
I told my demons no
I told my demons no