I’m Not Poetic I’m a Poet
Words crumble as I speak
Those words were bullets to them.
My lips mumble as I teach
And those teachings were bedtime’s stories to all.
With a temper of a volcano, ready to explode.
It was sunny as a winter day in Alaska
My eyes were Ice and I could see the snow fall
It’s like my life is a Fashion Show
With no fans but designers all over.
My legs turned into a jelly as I walked on top of the lake.
The wind blew so hard like an angry Witch
With no clear direction, but north facing.
Clouds seemed like balls of cotton
And the moon looked like a white balloon
Clearly my eyes were like a crystal ball
Rolling around the ground of marbles.
The Fire station was burning down
And the teacher failed the test, it
Was like a police station being robbed
A pilot who feared heights
Damn it was a Catastrophe at its best but,
I’m no Poet but I’m Figurative...