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My roots may have adapted for years —
Many celebrate when I’m in victory
But I found no one In the long run of misery.

And this pace was tiring,
It has left me hanging —
Clueless about what’s ahead,
Murky days ahead,
It’s as if.. combing the strands of my hair in white,
With a gentle touch from my weary fingertips.

And maybe, just maybe
You know I’ve been lying to myself lately.
If I could just retire for a moment.
A moment that could snap toward the future,
A moment that could bounce me back to the past,
Or even freeze me like Captain America.

If I could just pull myself up from the mirror,
And maybe exchange names with somebody else.
Someone better than me,
Someone good enough,
Someone whose best
Could fit in this demanding society.

I still can’t get over such thoughts,
I can’t even recover
From the pain that haunts me
Every time I try to seek the light.

“It’s easy,” they’ll tell you
But their absence was the only constant thing
To be present all this time.

As I said: it was a long run —
Of resisting this agenda in my head,
“I’m not good enough.”
How I wish to be torn between two lovers,
But it was between the old and new me.
How could I love myself then?
 Mar 2021
Dark n Beautiful
I saw a pretty street this morning I forgot the name**

I remember dressing my daughters in pink

I never had the opportunity to dress someone in blue

I suppose it wasn’t meant to be.

(would it have made a different?



Yesterday, it took me almost fifteen minutes to convince

A polish patient to take a shower,  

so I did is what the new norm does

I pulled up Google, and I asked to translate  

Take a shower tomorrow .. and he did it for me. ( jutro prysznic)

Life, what we had to do to earn a buck!!

Would it had made a huge different if

Police officer Derek Chauvin

hadn’t knelt into George Floyd neck last year?

I think Derek C was trying to prove a point

Like a sharpen no 2 pencil it broke...



I will leave this answer to the jury to decide

Poetry writing is like a *** position  

That we afraid to try,

My way of writing poetry is unique

I allow my mind to take me there

And my fingers to type  in calibri style

Never be afraid to express oneself

Be true to yourself..
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