Tonight, I wrote a poem inspired by this art piece by Mark. I'm curious to see what he thinks, and how what I see merges with his truth.
I will never
I can stand on the cliffs of injustice and point my fingers
ten or two.
I can use your jaw that drops
when I walk by
to wipe up
what's left of me and you.
But there is no way,
even at my lowest
when I can hardly believe
we ever tried to merge our souls,
that I will let you
trick me with your
condescending birds
and
letters put together
to make
twisted lines of graffiti
and hollowed out words.
I will never
worship the ground you piss
on as long as you
crookedly
live.
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