I'm writing poems for myself tonight
Because there is no internet connection
And these are some of the best works
The world will never see
Because they are so raw, you know?
So honest and forthcoming
Who could bear them in the light of day?

The poems one pens in broad daylight
Are much like polite conversation
The Thought is present that keeps them narrow and straight
That what would old so and so think of that now?
So I better not let my mind stray

But here in the dark
I can let myself go
And thrust and moan
In wild abandon
For there is none to hear
My deep groans of anguish
Or ecstasy
For miles and miles

Oh! You ask? What of the neighbors?
Ehhhhhh
They don't speak Poetry.

-jenn