when I was a child I didn't have poetry so I crossed my fingers to feel better about things that were happening instead of crying if I told a story they said I was lying so I stopped flying perched and stayed grounded to the floor like a ignorant pigeon who don't know what wings are for poverty is something less than poor sitting quietly listening to complaint from those who didn't want more than what's in a store sitting on the front porch I watched trains go by wondering what was on the other side other than broken glass and gravel I've fallen on many times skin hanging off my knees realizing if I was going somewhere l was going to see stars so it was going to be hard painful and bloody life did not come without hurts success did not come without scars
The Immortal Wize
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Belt Welt
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life
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Coalhouse says: DOPE |
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The Pierce in a library I decided I decided in a library I wanted to be a poet ... |
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