Fourteen Blocks

What was she doing there

Out walking the knife in the back wind

cold hands rammed in a coat too small

plastic bags in boots with holes

living down the outside on the inside

what was her master plan?

to slip through the escape hatch

the ever present crack in the floor

to stay alive

for one more day

feel the weak tea January sun  slap her face awake and wide open

attempt to contain all that was ever partly clean and true

to think her poetry into you

and the clearest of perceptions are always distorted by days without discernment

and fourteen blocks to walk that never get her anywhere

but somewhere base and  in between

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Author: valo

I am a poet, writer and activist with a special interest in human rights for children and women as well as the elimination of poverty worldwide. If you read this today, feed someone locally for me will you? Drop off a non perishable food item at the food bank nearest you and consider yourself hugged. Thank you!

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