Chairs window pains and picture frames hold secrets
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Misunderstood with tradition and verbs
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Rifts creeks crevices and curves obey commands and surgically implant paranoia with bad words
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I can see invisible people watching me hiding in the seams
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While drums beat heavy from the rear of my twisted dreams
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Naturally it’s the thing I wear
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Everything is not always as beautiful as it may appear
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I whisper truth to myself and pretend not to hear
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Till poetry becomes aggressive and lines become smeared
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Time has no expiration date and statute of limitations don’t exsist
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Don’t ever get distracted it’s not always easy to resist
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The thoughts
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And I don’t write sweet poems
mentalnotes1 
very nice
Thank you Kalabalu 😊
welcome 🙂
beautiful and powerful!
Thank you Audrine ❤
my pleasure!
Nice poem, I don’t write much sweet poems either. Reality usually isn’t that sweet.
No it is not! Heading your way to read some of your not so sweet poetry 🙂
Thank you for commenting ❤
“…I whisper truth to myself and pretend not to hear.” This line got me. The act of being apt to talk to oneself is a plus. Only few will do that, and adhere to it.😊👌🏿
That self assessment can be grueling, thanks for visiting and the acknowledgement Richard ❤
Please, don’t mention! What is noteworthy, is worth our attention.😊🙏🏿
This is a banger!
Thank you Shun 😊
This poem is sweet 😀. Haha. I love the wisdom hidden within each line. Everything is not always ad it appears.
Haha, you found “It” hidden between the lines 🙂
Profound. Truth is just that at times. Thank you for sharing your art.
Yes it is! ❤