Resistance holds the hand of doubt.
Structure used to help me cross the street.

Traverse the earth with ungodly fears?
Would you consider breaking back into prison?

Smoke crept out her wrinkled mouth,
“No way, my child,” she whispered to his grave.

While pleasantly rooted in fear, I
blindly trusted the word “always…”

But the strongest flowers grow beside the highway,
they are not sold with instructions or guarantee.

Numbed to the point of thoughtlessness,
foggy insight cracked the bathroom mirror.

Potted plants of your mother’s made me
remember there was something I forgot-

It is naturally occurring.
It cannot be bought.


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Filed under Lessons, Poetry

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