The thing is, a lot of people don't read non-fiction heavily. Intellectuals, yes, but the average person? Hardly at all. Through poetry, I hope to strike a cord that resonates with a community focused mainly on media, circumstance, and the drama that surrounds an increasingly materialistic world. Poetry also allows me to be biting, eloquent, and a little vague. My poems are open to interpretation, and I'm always eager to hear what you see in them that may differ from what I see in them.
Since I really am hoping to get this published, I'll only be posting snippets here. To start off, the poem which the first chapter is named for, Burning Books.
Burning books
Have a peculiar smell
As smoke wafts
Above the treetops
Like knowledge escaping
To be written again.
That said...I have work to do, and I will be going back to public school this fall (yes, I am that young) and will be dealing with the various terrifying things that make me as misanthropic as I am. I will try to be consistent in posting, though.
-Com
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