torn from my thin frail sheets
in the dawn light of this eighteen degree morning
while frost still nibbled at the bones
to the whailing banter of a woman lying on the street
panicked and restlessly babbling
about indecipherable what-nots
her sanity was all i'd questioned
and never for a moment, her needs
she forced me to the window
and in a selfish gaze of scrutiny
i momentarily hated this person i didn't know
doesn't this bitch realize the world is sleeping?
but pain itself never sleeps
and this woman was the subject of its teasing
and suddenly the cold began to chill me to the core
as i stood there warm in plaid pajamas
and it came to my short-spanned attention
that these selfish concerns
place a sting of fear inside the spine
and petrify me from the inside out
now pen to paper
processing
and taking more consideration
to recognize the scope and strength
of my well-placed wishes in this world
and urge myself to take some time today
to smile at a stranger
or drape a blanket of hope
over the shoulders of a bruised and broken america
I like it! 'whatever you do
I like it!
'whatever you do don't go back to sleep'...we must face the fires head on, so if you must, weep, child, weep.
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "
Thank ya dear. I'm a newbie
Thank ya dear. I'm a newbie and could use whatever encouragement I can get.
May America be warmed by your
May America be warmed by your blanket.
Copyright © JessterStarshine
No blanket is that big. But
No blanket is that big. But we are the patchwork fabric that if carelessly stitched together just may do the trick.