15d (edited) • General discussion
Poem
He said Gather around, everyone
These will be the last words
make it raw, make it heavy
Make it something to remember.
Gather here....
where my ink still bleeds beyond the pen
where my paper never folds and my words never
get old.
Gather here, I have been writing like it's my duty for
survival
or every line I write could save a life
or maybe just remind them that it is always
a reason to still breathe.
There is nothing weak about poetry
It's like the whispers of thirds person in
your ear.
We gather here because we refuse to
Stop allowing our thoughts to be read.
Turning poetry into prayer, we gather
here while the words play like music,
And our fingers move with rhythm.
If these are my last words, allow them to
rise by the moon.
crack the circulation of heavy allow my
Words to be loud and steady.
Rise like gun smoke, it is always hot
But ready.
Gather here,
and remember
We all write to express
to inhale, exhale
To breathe again, to awaken
To find inner peace
To show love
To evolve
Deflect
Relive stress
Reflect
Don't forget to manifest
Delleesa D Harris
6/14/26
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Poem
