In a room full of heavy hearts
I can only lean to keep sharp
I have these dripping pumps
Flooding my mind’s poor cup
I drink fast trying not to drown
In the emotion’s echoing sound.
A sponge can only hold so much
Before it’s dripping with such…
Heavy slogging, my soaked frame
Sailing the bog of poet’s shame.
The pain crashing over in waves
Destroys my notion to behave.
I rip at my clothes and drip
The sweat from toe to lip.
Stepping outside for a breath
Georgia air feels, soggy death.
In the heavy heat holding tight.
I feel the weight getting light.
Free of the pain permitted the air
Revived from the borrowed dispar
I see my friend, beauty and grace
Enter in her thorny and pierced face.
She hugs me hard and relive my weight
And I return to face the poet’s fate.