Kimberly Diane Allen Poems

A shadow of the shell of the man he once was,
He sold his soul to wet his tongue.
Pulled by dreams of long ago,
Traveling a long dark road,
...

I want to erase twenty years,
with just a few exceptions.
Whittle them down to five or six
years when smiles were common,
...

I feel their judgment, a seething hatred for me.
Loathing me, yet nothing of me being known,
by my type I am caste.
I am 'those': worth less, use less,
...