Dexsta Ray

Gold Star - 14,415 Points (March 8,1994 -)

Wet Silence - Poem by Dexsta Ray

I never been the shady type
Dissociation
From the shaky type, when discern about this broken age
I talk about the broader route
Ain't even in the open
Pages
Everybody heard about, now the curtain's down
Burdened now
Determined, how?
Divergent grounds, showered by the powers, high,
And out of touch
The circuit's loud, ow, electric speaking
See, around the mound, since I was birthed
In the south, region
Words…
Ah. What's that? I do. Speak. Stop. Go. No. Start. Begin it.
Thanks. Stop. Why not? See? Get it? Who, me?
Well? Is it?
See me.. Who? Read it. What? Really! Why me? So soon?
Do it. Who knew? Enough. What is it? Go now. Ye did. Why not?
So?
Minus all the sixes
Only sevens in attendance
That's the Holy Holy number
Very essence of the Spirit, view an exit, not appearance
For it's destined
Never to escape the fate of lessons
Only get the given
Ripping out the pages of confessions, like forgiving spirits
Time addiction, peerless
Hide a sin within the bosom
Climb against the steepest cliffs
Grinding nails into the
Rocks
Pulling, pebbles, slipping, dropped

Topic(s) of this poem: abstract


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, December 2, 2015



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