poetry

sick of talking cryptic
skipped it
the real meaning behind my words
while i'm seeming to be
poetic-floetic
flowing descriptions
and vague undertones
of that extra something
beneath the surface
hoping people will catch my drift
comprehend the gist
(u get me?)
of what i'm really trying to say
between the split lines
pathetic rhymes
start. stop. pause. breath.
fast-slow slow fast
droaning moaning
rolling droll
(...that doesn't sound funny)
overspill of thoughts
thoughts spill over
my cup overflows
permeating through the thick skin of lies
let the truth seep in and flavour life
like
salt
light
chases darkness away
brings fortha new day
by this let me be characterised
love behind my eyes

if they are the window to my soul

i found this in my old blog, changed it a little and it was the first poem i read at an open mic this week. imagine it being read in a range of accents and quite exagerrated intonation!