deepundergroundpoetry.com
Wishbone
Growing up there was no wishbone
To wish on
My wishes were
The only thing
To focus on
Maybe I wanted
A new pot to piss in
Different than the one
We would cook
The dish in
Ha, that's a dream child
The food was missin
Now tell me
What you know about
Miserable position
To wish on
My wishes were
The only thing
To focus on
Maybe I wanted
A new pot to piss in
Different than the one
We would cook
The dish in
Ha, that's a dream child
The food was missin
Now tell me
What you know about
Miserable position
Published 26th Aug 2019
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
26th Aug 2019 11:50pm
Nothing. I'll be the first to admit I know nothing about real poverty. Happy to have people I can learn from, to burst my disgustingly privileged bubble.
Thank you for this write.
k
Thank you for this write.
k
27th Aug 2019 1:25am
We lived in deep south Mississippi with my mother's people while my father served his first tour of Vietnam. I wasn't even in school yet. I remember hauling water from a stream ( we didn't even have a well ), using an outhouse ( no indoor plumbing ), eating beans and potatoes, and picking cotton on my cousin's back. He would pick, hand it to me, and I would put it in the sack.
And, yet, those are the happiest times I remember as a child. Sometimes amid poverty there is so much wealth.
And, sometimes amid wealth there is so much poverty.
Good poem, David
And, yet, those are the happiest times I remember as a child. Sometimes amid poverty there is so much wealth.
And, sometimes amid wealth there is so much poverty.
Good poem, David
