I Am Word Poem by John Chizoba Vincent

I Am Word



I AM WORD
I will make pouring of words
Like a mourning for an only son
By the professional mourners,
For where reason fail madness may succeed.
I am word, I am the maker of words;
I eat word and words are the breath I take.
On my rhythms of words, beautiful virgins faint,
Words unveil my identity and leaves me naked.
I am word, I am the maker of rhymes.

Friday, November 13, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: identity,madness,son,words
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