North's Testing Page

Open Mic Night at Stacker's THURSDAYS 10:00

With a broken riot helmet, and a torn kevlar vest. A warrior comes in.

One of Security, Composition, and Persistence.

“I offer this poem in my own voice.”

Its snaps cracks the air,
harder than the fractures that formed.
Limping through a field of melodies,
My knees bent at the winds of sorrows.

Falling towards the meadows to which I roam.
Wind pushes me down to tears.
Ponds of pain stretch towards my view,
onwards I traverse.

Limping through a field of melodies,
None to stroll along side me.

Walking off with a head held high.

The warrior takes his rest.

He strolls alone.

Til next week.

northdraft