The Spoken Word Poet
He goes to the stage,
Palms sweaty,
Noting the eyes of the crowd.
And he realizes,
He is a narcissist,
Only wanting to say the sound of his voice.
The life and sometimes mundane, sometimes freakish thoughts and occurrences of a single comic book journalist and struggling writer in his early 30's.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home