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Aug 2014
As you write you are hundreds.
Become the thief, murderer, and sacrificed.
You stand at the crossroads,
leading the sheep
and angry bulls.

Feel for the nemesis,
Feel for the grandfather --
their fluttering leaves of childhood worries.
You must feel from the heart for the sad.

"Help Us"
"**** Them"
You stand with one foot on each side
of that line drawn in the sand
with chalk.

Write, because in the pages
a rose is a poison, a city is a flower,
and the truth can leak from the pages,
and the fingers of the reader will absorb
and carry the truths to the heart.


Poppy P.
8/24/14
Poppy Propper
Written by
Poppy Propper
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