2002 Poetry

purse’s barely breathing

am like a waif meandering

have covered a hundred mile

dead-beat to look for hopes

can’t even check oneself

how wretched i have become

my reproach’s banging me

had i been a wiser spender,

had i been clever to choose

unswerving companions

then perhaps i am still in

my former place in the sun

i could only blame myself

for my present predicament

if there’s still hope left for me

then i pray to trip my feet on it

and i swear i’ll do better

written 12/31/2002

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Shaketa Copelin's picture

AMEN to that!! I Loved this...