Thursday, April 01, 2021

NaPoWriMo, Day One, Poem One




To Start
 
Someone
will be
mad at you.
 
They know 
it's a journal
not a bible,
 
suspect
you turn
from the sun.
 
All were
on to you
years ago.
 
Your back
is their 
economy,
 
now sports
their favorite
furniture.
 
Support self 
with pen 
on page,
 
drag it
to sound
own vowel.
 
All will rage,
shake selves
right off,
 
finally 
give you
sentence.

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