• zohiii 60w

    I understand, but do I? I can imagine myself in your shoes, but yours will be the only feet walking in them.

    Thanks @writersnetwork for the repost. :")

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    Shakespeare in a Slum

    A day, I'll sell these words,
    at the rate of gold;
    Metaphors and adjectives,
    twofold, manifold:
    Under the blurry bulb
    of the rusted lamppost,
    About the grain of wealth,
    of my ink, I boast.

    A Cinderella without
    her precious ball dress,
    I'll tell a story wicked
    in your heart to ingress;
    Brine drips on paper
    from the tattered roof,
    Or my eyes smudging
    my words bulletproof.

    I'll write a tale of rags
    to riches, like the bard;
    About the hunger,
    the poverty, a life so hard:
    But a sister lays crying
    in her broken crib,
    And in the garbage
    might a morsel wait,
    I have to reach in hurry,
    before the day to slip;
    Revolution delayed,
    I've a gamble with fate.