What do you do think will happen
When you know you have forgotten what your heart swore it would remember
As life becomes a big black pick-up truck, yet you cannot drive by the countryside
Instead, you’re stuck in city traffic.
When you’re like the hookers who make love for a penny or two
As you cuss on Monday, but pray on Sunday
When your body is not yours
For it holds too many untold stories and chronic diseases
You see through a drained tea- strainer
And all that is left are blanched tea-leaves of that thing you once called hope.
Photo credits- http://www.deviantart.com/art/Chlo-dans-l-herbe-481119174
love it..!!!so encouraging to see you write it gaves me more hope….keep it up!:-)
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Thank you so much
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Beth, I’ve always admired your poetic skills. This is good. Thumbs up ^…^
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Thank you mumdi! I appreciate it
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