poetry, Uncategorized

beginning

his feet pump
with the weight of words
muscles in his voice
ignite and imbue
the asphalt

his face fidgets
in the creases of the wind
yet his eyes
remain resolute
through the old fog

his mischief wades
down the street
a scarf embraces him
like the soft pulse
of a mothers arm
whose embryo voice
whispers and says

– today you’ll be the
gentleman that
echoes empathy from
the folds of his heart

 

 

PhilosopherPoet

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