For poetry . . .

Words are broken
Letters are scattered
Of our poems- They cried
For their human heart shaped home-
No one knows-
You showed no mercy
I didn't give it a try
We left them for
The world to justify!
They are masterpieces
(An orphan, no one knows)
I cry for them in the bath
The tap screams louder though-
Let's work
To give them homes again
Not in the real world, no matter at all
Let's paint our poetic world
To laugh, to make our poems
unconditional.

Atika Cherry is a poet.