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)
Monday, January 1, 2018
People visiting "What colors Humanity" haven't heard from you in a while. "PRAY"
PRAY
My quietness
is uncertainty
Unsure if I should even speak
Am I wrong to believe
there's hope for me
Lately Iv'e reserved the right to believe
It's to late for me
Uncertain of any resolution
I Hope God Hears me....
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