root - Posted on 06 February 2001

by Jewnbug

Poverty bought my lottery, ticket.

writing uplifted hurting, emerging.

searching through books to rescue stories buried deep in shame.

poverty gave social services my name.

Time trys to trap my rhyme, won’t b a mime 4 da 9-5 ride.

Stress needs rest, rethinking how to organize mess of past relations with press, my ex.

moving on to the next , I press.

Incarceration epdemic sickens nations with investations of violations.

Police canceled yo lease, ceased possessions, release demanded from zoo cages.

Words fly with birds not just nerds, unlocking the will to flirt again , again.

Poverty locked me in a cage.

Words fly with birds release my RAGE!


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