2 FACED death in the mirror in the morning of sundown death.

I used to sleep with

Gum in my mouth

It could actually kill

Instead of keep you clean

 

But to clense myself I

Was baptized

Until I felt drowned.

 

Now I sleep with a toothpick

In my mouth.

In hopes of any type of 

Sleep.

 

With the calming 

Taste of sandalwood

Engrained within my mouth.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
My country

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