sent from home
Some men can have everything,
but can only notice the nothing they have.
Those some,
do quiet never find the right one
until it is quiet gone.
Those some,
carry their numb deep in their pockets,
as if the weight of their own spite
kept them on the ground;
never really understanding the
gravity that holds them down.
Those some,
search to be complete,
on their knees
speaking to a God
that does not speak.
Those some,
look a lot like me.
Some,
don't be a lot like me.
This poem is about:
Me