Empty Poetry

Broken rhythm 

Hits thoughts in

Fallen poetry

 

With lowly rhymes 

Catch-all phrases 

Useless adjectives adding 

 

Pages 

To make twisted 

Alliterated stages 

 

Grasping for spindly straw lines 

 

My fingers immerse themselves 

In words 

To make sentences 

 

Like bracelet beads

Held together by a thin thread 

 

Eyes absorb the colors 

The feeling 

Manifested in

 

The clench of the stomach with music 

And sweat

With meaning

Mattie Grace Levy

I'm a black woman, a classically trained oboist, a self-taught composer, and an introspective poet trying to comprehend my thoughts.

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