My walls. Are.
Black
As oil and just as wet.
Wet. From. All. The.
Spurious
Aimless. Thoughts
I throw at them.
All the pointless. Shit. That.
Leaves. A snail. Trail
In its wake.
That. Wends. Its
Way. To. The floor.
I keep throwing
my aimless. Pointless. Thoughts
And hope that. One. Day.
They will Coalesce. Into
Something truly
Worthwhile.
My first book of poetry, The All or the Nothing, is available now as an e-book from most online distributors. To find out more, click here.
Laidback DM: SteveStillStanding.com 
Cool layout Steve😎
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Thank you, Mairi. It’s meant to represent crap thrown at a wall. The style is known as ‘concrete poetry’, where the text of the poem takes on the physical shape of the content. 🙂
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I gathered that, it was easy to visualize the wall. I must try this concrete poetry with tommorrow daily prompt. Thanks for that😊
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There is beauty in piles of dirt actually when view long away from our usual myopic views of them being dirt…. I saw an art work made from dirt or disposed items on documentary…. It was so lovely… So my deduction, pile of dirt makes up things depending on your views on creativity….
Your poems are usually awesome with that spark!
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Thanks, follypen! I appreciate your feedback 🙂
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