Shazzie Telo Poems

This is strange...
It is pain in every sense of the phrase.
Pain so undoubtedly overbearing
And I am under-strength to thwart such subjugation.
...

Tell me not mournful sky of your grief,
You poured rain like daggers.
I pound my chest for I am all forlorn,
For worthy is none to be your relievers.
...

Thoughts of what went before
Clustered inside my brain like swarming bees.
When can this gray matter
Be finally disenslaved from these?
...