In First Tongue Poem by KarlRomeo PierreLouis

I must apologize for the appearance of my thoughts
The language in which they felt are translated loosely
Through the lines and spaces of each letter joined
Quickly and rapidly they came, wondered and left
Leaving only the stigma to be written
An obsession to be colored and repeated
Without the boundaries or corners of a finished sheet
They scratch and pull at my minds wall
Ripping exits between my eyes and fingertips
Shading nightmares into fading good dreams
Shaping screams into chorused sonatas
Quickly and fiercely they bleed through and course thoroughly
Bold and stunted
There, then, here whispering still
Their independence taken and spoken
Sometimes in spite of me
Being…
The language I once fought to hear
I left forgotten loosely on these pages…

In First Tongue