On Change
I can keep the same language,
but can I keep the same heart?
For my words precede me,
the sinner not yet whole is
apt to call himself clean.
Yesterday I grinned like a mime
released from canvassing
sidewalks and stairwells.
In interest of time, I danced only
the rumba and square.
But today I am jobless and sinner unclean.
my loyalties lie
only God knows where
the words allow room to breathe.
1 comment:
yay a tile just for me,
good stuff
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