third time in poetry

  • March 23, 2014, 3:49 a.m.
  • |
  • Public

A working class kid with a rich man's education
and that's not exactly a boast.
And I've toiled in ghettos and mansions
I've done it on both coasts.

What if setting a record for the most wasted potential
in just one lifetime was my goal?
Would attaining this goal be a paradox?
When you shoot for the moon
are you losing your socks?

Sometimes you rise up from ash like a plenipotentiary phoenix.
Sometimes you patch wounds with packing tape.
And you break what you gotta break.
And you soothe what needs soothing.
And you do what you gotta do to breathe.
As long as you keep moving.

This world goes, I finally realized
not to the strong or the weak.
This world goes to those
dumb enough to take risks.
I don't know how to take risks.
Teach me how to take risks.
Or maybe, that is to say
unteach me.

Unteach me how to take risks.
Third time's the charm.


Loading comments...

You must be logged in to comment. Please sign in or join Prosebox to leave a comment.