Things that were free will no longer be. I even pay a price for being me; I look for a way out with my writings, but I'm too blind to see that the poetry world is crumbling, and my words are just debris.
The countdown has begun;
YQ is the microphone, but it's losing an emcee
Farewell, my friend
Now I have to sip from a different cup of tea— % &

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Inflation has prices going up all over the world
I can't even afford
to write in this medium
This poor poet can't
afford to go premium

— % &

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I stare at the galaxies to see what's inside me. Unfortunately, the universe within will soon be free

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Betrayal disguises itself as love and friendship

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your smiles are absent

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might just be the people that burn you

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Happy Thanksgiving

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Yanking adhesive bandage from your hairy arm,
it hurts

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that it turns to day

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Is like

a heart without it's beat

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