I am poor.
Economically, emotionally, spiritually.
Can't grow nothing
but this tangled thorns.
Omg, I can't believe
that I exist
on borrowed time, no less.
Excuse me if I make a mess,
I've always tried my best.
But I can't tolerate myself,
the reason I can't stand still:
don't want to meet nobody
that speaks like me moves like me thinks like me.
Forgive me. I am poor.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s