Wasn’t I ?

On my dirty, ripped knees again;

Planting new problems

On top of those I made last year,

Always hoping for a richer harvest.

Tomorrow’s sweet children

Glide across sugared skies

On silver-ribbon wings.

They do not know me,

Maybe never will,

But I was here …

Wasn’t I?

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One thought on “Wasn’t I ?

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