Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Business suit,
crisp, intact,
I unfold my
wand
when no one
is
looking.

I tell it,
"get
a spell on!
transfix all eyes!
onto the,
greatness,
of me".

Nothing
changes.
I'm a stranger,
wild,
in a cage.
Poses slay me.
Poverty suffocates.

I like the way this poem is structured.
It also reminds me of periods of my childhood where I'd command to myself myself "fly!", and I'd crash down instead.

sometimes your poetry just blows me away.

this is a great piece!

greatness..... yes!

The greatness of me!

Oh, but you're too too kind

It really should be

The greatness of you

Since you wrote it

And it's fucking grand!!!!!!

Smashingly swell.