Johnathan Black

Once his heart was broken

So he kept the pieces in a box

Safely hidden, deep away

With binding chains and keyless locks.

​

His mind was want to wander

To skies too high and clouds too far.

So to keep himself grounded down to earth

He kept his brain inside a jar.

​

His lungs were much too needy-

Traded one and sold the other.

Each to a strange and different home

Now both without a brother.

​

There were words and phrases,

He knew he could not stand to hear.

So he melted a pot of candles

And stuffed the wax in each ear.

​

He grew tired of his eyes

Looking down and looking back.

So he took a brush with inked tip

And painted them pitch-black.

​

His face had yet done no wrong

But with fear it one day might,

He used a knife and stole its nose

Not from prudence, but from spite.

​

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/9g6d2g/lewisville_lake_late_september/e63kmqc

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/9g76bn/the_betta_fish/e63l18u