Poems from SlammingPoet

The Imperfections
Tick. Tick. Tick. Ruined concentrating silence. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tiny noises sound like giants.   Round. Round. Round. Going up instead...
The(MY) Truth
Here it is. Blunt in all its glory. The truth. Every last word.   It feels like love. Just the word isn't enough. There's so much more. So...