Poem -
GeNrE-cOnFuSeD
Freestlye, Haiku, Narrative WHO?
Abused
confused
with
WHO I AM
Words
heard
from
words
spoke
from
words
wrote
My roots formed
from a poem
but
which
type
FrEeStYle?
I am to confused
my reflection uncertain
must we have labels
hAiKu?
I ASK MYSELF ?
of course my voices
have no response
They only speak up
when they benefit
THEMSELVES
My identity is in many
because these words
have many meanings
Who i am ?
is up for debate
until I know
I guess ill always remain
GeNre-CoNfUsEd
NaRrAtIvE?
WHO KNOWS ?
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Comments
originality killed the cat .. or summat like that ... maybe ........... enjoyed regardless ................................................................... Neville
Lol touche , im glad you enjoyed . Gwen gave me a huge compliment on my last entry so I had her stellar words as extra motivation to mix it up . Thanks Neville . 👊
you are more than welcome, in fact, much more than merely welcome my fine literary friend ........... N
Love it Rob,
that very first section
“Abused
confused
with
WHO I AM
Words
heard
from
words
spoke
from
words
wrote”
reads like a rap. I could feel the beat behind it. Yet again you push the reader to think on things. In this case what is poetry to them, to you. What is expression? Does poetry define us individually or is it merely an echo of our thoughts/feelings. I could go on really cos your piece just gets the reader/poet in me thinking. Which I always love so thank you again x