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Beginnings And Ends
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Could it be, my poetry is affected,
Because my language has been altered?
I find myself in a road curve,
Different from the straight,
where I may have lost,
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The poetry.
The magic that once revolved in me.
Now I can speak, but I cant write,
Now I can be myself, but I cant feel,
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Am I really myself without it?
The poetry?
If I feel anything, is peace,
Because now I speak *languages*,
For others to understand.
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Not to say I hate it,
Not to say I miss the silence,
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But so sudden, and unfiltered.
>The neuron shifters.<
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^Open doors^,
And closes others,
Something I would’ve loved to have known.
© Achilles
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