Treasure Island

Edwin Cordero


The Work Ants


Sometimes, I feel like a toy.
No, not a real boy.
Joy comes through me
Until I'm broken.
Nothing is spoken.
Riding in a convoy
Filled with choice,
We share the same void:
Equal poise to avoid
Life's true noise.

Submitted: Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, September 25, 2013

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