Main Event Poem by david gerardino
Main Event
LIKE barren land filled with
rocks and dirt, she takes her
sword, and adds one more cut,
LIKE a baby bird learning to fly,
she lands on the ground, and starts
to cry.
LIKE the wounds of a beatiful saint, she
holds the needle, then finds a vein,
again, again, and again
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
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4/19/2024 10:25:41 PM # 1.0.0.1119
