Poison Ivy

Is it Writer’s Block?
Is the Universe alerting me to,
Rest my wrist and mind before my love for life depletes!
Lately exhaustion and relaxation seems to be the trend for a man facing exile.
A man who’s prayed for the expulsion of pain,
Receiving an abrupt ticket to any curb on Broadway!

How hilarious is it to pray for a day where aches don’t pulsate through your brittle limbs,
Kind of get the escape you’ve wanted as you jump for joy just a little bit?
It’s as funny as those akin who purposely cut through your sanctity.
Those akin who rip through your sanity in hopes of achieving Vanity!
In the name of Tragedy leading to your fatality…

I guess,
Each ache traveling from nerve to nerve,
Were thoughts of others I’ve surfed for way too long.
Waves of tears I was swimming in as I landed on the rocks.
Waves caused by heated circumstances surrounding a hot-headed son from the North put on the spot.
No other choice was given but to rise and head South no matter what trials we all must face at the end of our plots…
Growing the seeds we plant regardless if they’re poisonous or not…

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