![]() ThenA Poem by TillingThere was a time I wore black eyes. I had a mouth ran dry from sport of words spit hard. Garbage cans were always insight. I would protest, always pockets turned inside out, a curious rage for the world, I know would rather not see. I remember my bare feet burned hot on pavement, more protest of my suffering. I would search out shadows for a little reprieve. © 2019 Tilling |
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Added on April 13, 2019 Last Updated on April 13, 2019 |