Lifes Work

Letters To A Young Poet

Success

June 16, 1991 — Filed under: mypoems

Success Crush me with your drive The eyes on me are of pity No grace for the ones who fall Christ beats me with his crutch Whips my hide till it bleeds Curs my being you might For what reason Because of fall Never will I turn to you Your society tripped me Raped my innocent mind only confusion will fallow Leave me be My own world where no one trips your grace of shadow