I Am Word Poem by John Chizoba Vincent
I Am Word
I AM WORD
I will make pouring of words
Like a mourning for an only son
By the professional mourners,
For where reason fail madness may succeed.
I am word, I am the maker of words;
I eat word and words are the breath I take.
On my rhythms of words, beautiful virgins faint,
Words unveil my identity and leaves me naked.
I am word, I am the maker of rhymes.
Friday, November 13, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: art
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5/21/2024 6:56:57 PM # 1.0.0.1119
