My face isn't carved in a mountain. I've never been struck by lightning.
I've never saved a crying baby from a burning house fire nor have I over come my misfortunes in life to acquire a name for myself. I consider myself a writer although all I've written is only pieces of torn limbs of my distraught existence. (a bunch of poems)
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Wednesday, December 23, 2015
the world
Things aren't always what they seem
What appeared to be leaves
Blowing up.
And then falling from the sky.
Actually was a whole flock of birds
Becoming unable to fly.
But try and tell people something's wrong.
Bob jenkens
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