It's sad how easy things are today (in some ways) and yet hard in others. All I can say is the era of when people could use words to simply move you is gone. I hope it comes back...the way afros did.
POETRY...DEAD
Poetry is Deaf
Rumblings used for affection
Intents deciphered from looks
Music is about physical connection
And there are not enough books
Poetry has bled
When loving words are wasted
and knock on too many doors
When sensuality is tasted
Then spat out on the floor
Poetry lies still in its bed
to breath it cannot dare
A beautiful cushion under its head
its body bare
Poetry is dead
Poetry is now deaf
Poetry has been bled
Poetry lies still in its bed
For Poetry is dead
Terida
