Poetry

poetry
belongs
not to the hand
not to the mind
but to the heart.
it sings clearly
for each person
you just need to
listen carefully
and hear it.
it sounds different
to each
and every person.
it shows the world
that everything looks like it doesn't fit
if you look at it differently
and with words.
it is a writers music
a difference-makers helper
and my voice.
 

EverlastingWaves

VT

15 years old

More by EverlastingWaves

  • Thoughts after the fair

    I’ve never enjoyed the feeling of being sick to your stomach on a fair ride. Maybe I just don’t have the iron-willed intestines that all of my friends seem to have, because I get sick from going on the teacups at a normal speed.

  • october, my love

    october,
    my love,
    it is good to see you once again.

    although it appears i have missed
    your grand entrance,
    while i left the room.

    i walked along the street to visit you,
    and looked up,
  • scratches

    skin pulled taut and tight
    burning like the light
    that seeps through cracks
    underneath the door

    from stray branches and walking
    throughout the woods, balking
    at the idea
    of no path

    water rests on skin