Well, this is kind of a slam poem. For those of you who don't know SLAM it's basically poetry meant to be spoken word. Poetry with true rhythm, great pentameter. And it has to express something worth saying out loud. Instead of picking a topic I just wrote... Until I couldn't think of anything else to write. But here goes.
"The Floor"
It’s where my jaw fell,
When I thought about a moment alone,
Where all that was empty,
Could possibly be full.
Floored,
Like the once happy,
But now sad,
The once open,
But now mad,
Like the twang sound,
Of a country boy,
Who came home a city man,
Floored,
Like the possibilities,
I once saw that are all gone,
Sprawling, Grasping, Clutching,
For one more handle,
To bear the reigns in,
Once more,
I’d like to clutch,
Shift it all on down to neutral,
And bring these horses to a calmer pace,
But it’s on the floor,
Where my jaw lies,
Where my surprise hides,
And why I can’t even seem to try,
But it shows blank in my eyes,
The way I think this will go tonight,
Floored,
My thoughts of,
How the world goes,
Of how this poem flows,
And the wild passion throes,
Because who in the world knows?
I could be a reader, a rhymer,
A preacher, A tyrant,
And you’d all still say the same thing,
Because he’s a man without soul,
And you all want to know,
Who really truly knows,
Well that’s no one,
And that’s the truth,
So we’ll keep pain inside,
And remember all the lies,
That the world tends to spread as news,
And I’ll keep on the floor,
Because if you look for the clues,
You’ll see that the floor is the place,
When you ever want to displace,
Those feelings and thoughts of the blues,
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