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)
Wednesday, January 1, 2020
Pencil whipped
Lock me up in a cage
But don't take my pencil
Feed me rice with maggots
But don't take my pencil
Make me defend my life
With nothing but a pencil
A little more
Than a corn dog stick
Divides our lives But we can't see
From you to me
Because it's not written
In black and white?
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