Tuesday, December 20, 2016

Misunderstood - unfinished poem

We have no pride in ourselves.
When we're given the ball, we fumble.
We know it's our fault.
We don't blame the elders.
In their eyes, a chance isn't what we deserve.
And there are those that say...

Can you hear me now?
Make me proud.
Life throws us curves, like a highways twists and turns.
You can choose to slow down.

WZ

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