Under a shadow
and the rooster’s crow...
A blow to the back for the spot I left on a bowl-
It's what I deserve...
A youthful but wounded soul
You never really felt whole...
Forget me cause You left and my son is growing up...
I sit there and I tell him the truth: I say son...
We were raised by your many hands
To hold and guide us all...
Little nose
Little hands...
People always disappoint u no matter how hard you...
I wish certain people were nice all the time...
Memories come to me like a ghost;
finding my way home through Skid Row...
There's something so strange
about how you healed...
Pride
Ends...
Fifty summers spent in shade and sun
boating down rivers from ancient leas...
Professionals all
fifty years past private school...