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sandra wyllie
Poems
Feb 2020
My Pockets aren’t as Full
as the others. But my heart
is. And that counts for
something. The rich always get
more. And the poor try to make
pizza with leftover bread. There’s
only so many ways you can divide
it. But a splinter can stick as well as
a knife. Many a splinter has
cut me a slice. Whatever you carve
mountain or hole you don’t always have
total control.
Written by
sandra wyllie
60/F/Boston
(60/F/Boston)
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