Dusk Of The Weird Poem by Mary Jesusa Villegas

Dusk Of The Weird



Before I fell asleep
I looked out the window
It was the dusk of the weird
with my little fingers pretending
they're my two feet, trying
to walk down the scary streets
without any hassle or the help of a matured feet
and the car's violent screech

Can I cross the street tomorrow?
But I'm not yet old enough.
I'm not yet 18.
I'm only 8.
and my fingers and my two feet.
So Can I have a steel hand
and like Superman
I can stop the fast moving cars
and their violent screech
So everyday it will not be just my little fingers
my weak feet But my two huge, brave faithful feet

Can I cross the street tomorrow?

Before I sleep
I hugged a soft pillow
I left a tear
in the dusk of the weird and saw her little sorrow

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