Is It Poetry
the rights of it
Songs of word, flies hard from
me to you in pause.
Yes you did, you rest upon the
bench held closed.
Rooms of court, fill the sky how
it tries, to still the day in rest.
Know judge is an island to bath,
in the mantle, of purples black pen.
It will read the docket, against her sin.
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Comments about this poem (the rights of it by Is It Poetry )
- Racism, Kenneth Maswabi
- Idling mind., Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
- Using Both Sides Of A Brain, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- hakuna matata, Luv Artem
- Silent Horizons, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Continuing Inspiration, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- A.Blok, Three letters - 1- translation (.., Lyudmila Purgina
- last trail, Vian Sabri
- You shot..., Lyudmila Purgina
- A.Blok, A black raven...- translation (r.., Lyudmila Purgina
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