Oct 1, 2021

I was born sad.


Some of these poems are filled 
with lines that speak of grief or sorrow, 
others tell of the plain days and speak a bit 
of the drab times and dreary hours. 
A few, and only a few, mention joy. 
Such is my truth. Just now 
my birds looked up at me from their cages 
as if they expected something of me, 
something that perhaps only I could give them. 
“I was born sad,” I told them. 

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