She is my black princess, she carries no name,
Heavy with a curvaceous body,
Such a big girl with a large frame.
A mute to the world, interprets it with her eyes,
Everywhere I go she’s always by my side.
I protect her like a mother and give her my all,
Shelter her from danger, afraid if she falls.
Through her eyes the world is seen in many different ways,
Images in her memory that will forever stay.
She shares them with people, these images of where we live,
From where we are to where we’re going, her perspective is what she gives.
Her images can be so crisp and fine,
There’s nothing I love more than this wonderful camera of mine.
Oak leaves are falling,
The air is getting colder,
A change is coming.
I once met a man named Blaine,
His job was to fly a plane.
He’s flown everywhere,
From California to Delaware,
But his longing for home drove him insane.
So lately I’ve been writing a lot more poetry. Haven’t written any since I was like 15 or 16. Not by choice. I’ve been helping a friend out for her creative writing class. She’s terrible at poetry so asked me to do some of her assignments. Apparently she(me in reality) received the highest marks in the class with the work. Now, I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but I did feel a bit proud when I heard it. She showed me her professors notes and everything. I’m not sure if I should continue writing though. I mean I enjoy it, but I feel like it taps into a part of me that I don’t enjoy too much. The vulnerable part. I’ll post some of my work on here in a bit. Lmk what you all think.