September's Song
oh sweet ache of my bosom,
why do you mourn
the wounded skies still gives
a voice to beaten souls
glimpse of tomorrow
to unmoored existence
while shedding tears of moisture
landing each drop onto the fresh leaves
of September's song
empty cans of rain water
laid astray by the pathway i walked
along the subway
where men find solace
eating air made of tobacco
seeking warmth in every lighted puff
instead of their empty hearts
fully know it pulls closer to grave
shhhh, don't say more
your mind may be clear
and thoughts unclouded
but my dear
this is the existence neither you nor I chose
turn away now from distorted fury
or only songs of woe will be sung
on your final hours of subsistence
let them go
let yourself go
By Jessica John Posko 💗 J.J. Posko
Instgram: @poetrychips
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