Hanging by the nails,
swinging on the rails,
watching the lights glow
way on down eleven floors below.
Better make my next meal “to go.”
Sanity flees, bails.
Wish I had wings--sails.
Fell over the side
need a parachute to glide,
Hanging by the nails,
clinging to the rails.
Can you move the trash?
My grip is slipping, I’ll crash!
My life is passing--a flash!
Plop! pungent . . . it smells!
I’ve broken my nails.
See the world anew,
genuinely would miss you.
Earth bound . . . taking a new view.
Once hung by the nails
. . . was caught by the rails.
The gifted and fascinating Urban Poet, Asa D Seeley, once again speaks. He introduces a New Genre of Poetry...Reality Confrontation. Juxtaposed with Essay and staying true to his unique style, Asa brings a breath of...fresh air...to the world of poet
Just as life during the pandemic was color-coded with different hues representing different levels of danger, life in its aftermath has become shaded in similar ways. As a self-styled “Seeker of Beauty with Beauty,” (borrowing from a quote by W.E.B.
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