Poetry vs The World

Poem

Photo by fran hogan on Unsplash

The world — 
It sees no need for the kind words,
It has it with beauty and greed.
 — 
Poetry — 
It has nothing but the kind words,
It offers it in the act of writing it.
 — 
When it is but the clinging of soul,
Its cling comes from both,
Their need to own parts of me.
 — 
To be held under captive,
To be mesmerized by both,
To be under both’s spell.
 — 
It is about having to breathe,
Drowned by the pretty lies,
Arrested to endure its torture.
 — 
It wouldn’t move from its blooming seed,
All at the bottom of my stomach,
A tree of poisoned vines.
 — 
A-bounded to those who read or see — 
To experience the expectation to love it,
To see the evil and righteousness.
 — 
But to be free of either — 
Is to say you’ve made a home,
One or in neither.
 — 
Giving blood and flesh,
A voice to its presence,
A conscience to what I live in what I love in pieces.
 — —