poetry by j matthew waters

answers inside secrets

there is sadness in the air like a shushing stream
fearing her secrets become lost to the surface

but alas all is not gone
(oh no!) all is not worn for the worse
all is not as callous and cold as it seems

your physical world does not shake me as much
as you think it does dear satan
despite what my rattlesnake boots may say

it’s my stream of consciousness I rely upon
whether awake or asleep
(or forever gone)
reminding me to never confuse
experience with wisdom

may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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