Changing shoes

I fell into poetry. I am probably terrible at it but I can’t seem to care. The freedom it offers has me bedazzled. I can’t help it. I like to play with words and I like the brevity to say things that  poetry so generously allows. I can be straight to the point whilst my vocabulary shrouds it all in mystery, or so I hope. The vagueness is like a protective armour and yet underneath something more exists demanding to be heard.

For me the best part is because I choose the words I want and there is such a wonderful feeling when somebody else gets it anyway.

 Oops, I messed up again

Today I fell and

Turned back time.

Pushing, battling to

Move on I tired and

Yearned for meritocracy.

The past pulls tightly

To the subconscious mind.

It has already failed to

Move on because

It knows only meritocracy.

The penalty of femaleness.

To fear the independence of


My heart is breaking,

My will forsaking.


I try to stand up.

The floor is slippery.

A change of shoes may be in order.

Green high heels

Thanks for such a perfect choice

From Emotions in Eruption

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