All That Is Within Me
Every piece that flows
Is inked from blood, sweat and tears,
Exposing something inside with each line.
The metronome of my heart beat
Is what keeps the rhythm in my head.
It is not a superfluous continuation of multiple expectations
Thrust upon me by those who choose to be cynical
Naysayers and gossip hounds sniffing ‘round for a bone.
This is not simply my life’s work on display.
It.Is.My.Life.
My thriving fortitude
Is humbly offered for
The greedy consumption
Of my salivating bedmates
As we undulate in common rivers
Trying to make sense of the obscene.
When beauty is prostrate
Within the words gathered on the page,
Those are my ever living
Dreams and visions
Stretched out, not for judgment,
But for escape from suffocation.
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