Matthew Foor Poems

This is not a poem
It's anything but a poem

I need to write
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Fantastic
Deep red cirrus clouds
Linger over head
Sharing the gradient sky
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Single white male
With problems
Seeking
Single white female
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The house is in a stooper
Every morning
5am early risers
Line up for morning meds
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What makes us so intrigued?
By crime

So interested in murder
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A seemingly impassable
Solo Tectonic child
Reaches
Stretches for
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In the backroom I sit
Pool balls crack
John mumbles
"Into the blue…"
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I focus on me
On this recovery of mine
That's how it's gotta be
It's going to take a little time
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Creepin like the shadows on my heals
Following my every move
Stealin my zeal
Patience, it loves to test
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It begins with an invasion
Of the body and the soul
Born from within
It creates a troll….
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