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While standing on the rope
With no net beneath him.
Corner, where the bends forsake proper learning.
Found there, a child bleeds out
2 blocks away from my mother’s house
It’s chilling, that could’ve been anyone
But you’ll never really have to worry
A struggle, eternal in the way winds hit against you every second
Bone dries your mouth and you can’t taste chalk any longer that way back
It’s our own flaw
Only because rectangles suppress you from the truth
Deliciously amused on superficial fruit
Totally, and without repent
Out of the way to justify
When freedom’s a mere flowing stream with pay toll at the head
The polarities of inaccurate, resulting from 2 sides of a town
Trains come in carrying nothing
Take out nothing
And you sit admiring the pretty drawings on them
I held my sign at Interstate 94 for a while with no luck. I have five dollars to my name which will buy me one meal for today. If I sleep under the same bridge tonight, I might get beat up. It’s easier to target someone who looks like they lost everything, but it is what it is. I will try again tomorrow. I will sleep in a park tonight. One day at a time. Second by second to stay alive. A spiral black vacated bench catches my eye, I hurry over and sit. My legs slowly stop screaming from standing too long. I sink back, slump and sigh.