Graffiti Prophets


This is an Etheree poem I wrote some time ago. Etheree poetry consists of ten lines with ascending numbers of syllables. Line one has one syllable, line two has two syllables…

sun’s tender
first rays, squeeze through
rusty old railings
onto a cement wall,
the city’s parchment covered
in notes from graffiti prophets,
blazing shards of light sweep across their
nighttime artistry – scars of tormented minds.



I look forward to reading your comments

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