Tears so forceful.
Come pouring dryly.
Yet so swiftly.
That they miss me.
Dry heave.
Tight chest.
I’m a mess.
Blank thoughts.
Full mind.
Unstructured thinking.
I want to.
I got to.
If not for me…
Why me?
Chosen?
Maybe.
Thoughts translated.
Put down on paper.
Do you see?
Our commonality.
So together we.
On bended knee…
We pray.
And stay hopeful.
It’s not just me.
Copyright 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Posted in |
african american poetry,
faithful,
hopeless
|
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