I AmA Poem by Brett Moore
I own a little shop in town.
Money comes. Money goes to the bank, I am told. It’s all fools gold. I own a little piece of land. Reap the crops. Work the fields. If I can’t feed myself, I steal from a richer man. I am a poor man fighting for life. Don’t need no bank to make a stand. No rich man’s shoes to be a man. I am a little piece of God He is mine. I am his. Intertwined like a kiss from a woman’s lips. I am a poor man fighting for life. I'm short on money, long on time. This nickel's gonna be a dime. © 2023 Brett MooreReviews
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1 Review Added on March 27, 2020 Last Updated on September 16, 2023 Author
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