2011-34
Preoccupied with otherthings, 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 513 times
Written on 2011-07-26 at 20:46
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