Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 5
I must confess
I keep pictures of slave-owners
Well more or less
In my wallet
Sea-foam green
Fine frog hairs
Cash I mean
Picture printed on the backs of hemp
Were they heroes or merely slave owning wimps?

Even my coins are incline
They shine the barbarism of our kind
Every penny, quarter, nickel and dime
Somehow they spend just fine

Smash the statues
Change their names
From your cultural war
I will abstain

Yet I need my money just the same!
Traveler 🧳 Tim
Traveler
Written by
Traveler  62/M/Traverse City Mi.
(62/M/Traverse City Mi.)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems