2011-34

Preoccupied with other
things, I glance down,
find unexpectedly, my
hands are filled,
full again,

Bits of
bone, broken
glass, shards
of pottery, a
tattered five
dollar bill-

I've stolen
somebody else's
priorities
again-

I wonder
whose?




Poetry by Minhocao
Read 471 times
Written on 2011-07-26 at 20:46

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