Empty Poetry

Broken rhythm 

Hits thoughts in

Fallen poetry


With lowly rhymes 

Catch-all phrases 

Useless adjectives adding 



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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