Im a fading phantom traveling in the wind

I am God related, jesus is my twin.

My eyes are soaked with streets of smoke,

The feel of having less is real.

Silence dies, the city cries.

I hear the songs of sacrifice.

Marihuana scented wiffs, a musky dusty bitter gulp.

Spitting verbage tuned composed.

The taste of poems fills the air,

William Shakespeare in BelAir

William Shakespeare is not alive

This prompt is ‘sus’, it made me lie.

Writing poems makes me fat,

Is it lie or is it fact.

“This train is not in service”

Devine pen defies time

By deleting every rhyme. I pressed rewind.

Look up in the sky, its the poet, he can fly.

This too shall pass us by.

One day we will die. But for now we live eternal.

“Como estas mi amigo”, whispers a cigarette.

Fading into nothingness, the dissapearing ghost.