Somebody Told Me Poe Was Dead

Forget about being romantic I don’t want to be dramatic,
I wish to be sporadic and my words pragmatic,
Wishing to be courageous with no elastic,

Poetry is my tool while poets are electric,
Haven’t you wrapped yourself in plastic?
Life ending and the newspaper calling it tragic?

Lets not be dishonest while duty calls,
My hands are not olympic medalists,
Nor can they work miracles like Prophets,

If not for Jesus speaking from the cradle,
We wouldn’t be able to write life is feeble,
Lives lost due to flags erasable,

Who said death was reversible?
I didn’t realize the earth was unreliable?
Plausible deniability a rich nation’s miracle?

My preferred method of teaching call it gardening,
Others call it anarchy but most single mothers call it trusting,
If not for haters I wouldn’t have exotic dancers reciting,

(the testament of faith a.k.a Shahada)


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