My son, the poet.

My son, Tim, writes beats and rhymes.  While I don’t have any great love for rap and hip hop music myself, it is undeniably an art form.  Many of these artists are great lyricists and poets in their own right.  As I have begun to write poetry, I have acquired a different perspective on my son’s talent.  I would like to share with you a recent rhyme he wrote that I think is quite good.




We Burn Then We Die,
there is blood in my eye,
wasn’t born this torn,
was created by thorns,
piercing my insides,
… where I really reside,
these chains bind me,
so lost come find me.

– Tim Jones

Category: Other Poets, Tim Jones | No comments yet

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