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I eat poetry for breakfast
I eat poetry for lunch
I eat poetry for dinner
it make a great snack
I keep it in the refrigerator
I keep it up high on the shelf
adicted to the expression
of authentic soulful cuisine
it's a side dish that goes
with everything it's like eating
ice cream outside in the rain
it's letting a wound breathe
because coverng it up with
a band aid won't help the pain
like holding on to a memory
to remember things like
go in the kitchen take the chicken
out the icebox to thaw out
I didn't do that and for that
I got knocked out wasn't my
fault I forgot to do that
it was wrong to do that to me
the bright side of why I
enjoy poetry is all the dark
places I been and the
forgiveness I do not fail
to give to her as long as I live
