Devil your a robber and a thief always trying to steal someones joy. Stalking about like a roaring lion, seeking whom you may devour. But, you can’t catch me.
WHERE THE DEVIL IS MY POETRY ATANANCIO?
Poets!
How do they do it?
sit and write
muse and fuse
ignite and delight
How do they take a handful of words
and garner so much meaning
what is this
what is this gift
how did I lose it
where has it gone
I used to sit up nights
stringing words together
like you string beads
adoring each one
I’d get a jolt of sunshine
in the veins
even though it was late in the night
I use to write poems about God
poems about Christ
what went wrong?
I do believe YOU Poeta Nascitur Non Fit
Poets are born
not made
Atanacio
Your soul is showing
It’s an inspiration
but yet
but yet
but
yet
I guess that’s it for me
the ability is lost
It was those depression meds
long ago
sixteen was a terrible time
the abuse
the running
the streets
the safety
then the non-safety
the cult
the crash
the fall
wondering where God was
the scammish religion
the robbing of the sacred
the homeless shelter
theiving domestic violence shelter
they robbed my rings
my camera.
running
running
always running
knocked the rhyme right
out of me
I feel the loss
but gain a bit back
Everytime
I read a most
excellent
poem
God has his plans
but I think the devil
has robbed me of my poetry
I’ve been jacked
It’s okay
devil can’t rob me of God…
devil can’t rob me of faith…
devil can’t stop me
from soaking up
the poetic styings
mystic musings
liquid something gold
I can’t explain
of
The Real Poet
Poeta Nasitur Non Fit
Atanacio
Christina Ramsey
Tankermone
Ashan1614
Melinda J
Dennis O’ Brian
And most of all
The Psalms of David…

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