When it became ok!Submitted by The Pen on Tue, 02/25/2014 - 02:07
When my fingers fell unabashed upon ivory,
setting plaited air to weave and leave these porous walls,
to fill the streets with the raw blood of a swearing heart
it became ok...
It became ok to forget fame,
to recognize my calling absent the game,
and it became ok to remember that sparked moment:
a stage less black than the quiet beast,
poised and beckoning my immature hands.
Peace and Love always.