WingSpan Poetry Project


What did I see to be except myself?

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I see damage from within

that is screaming so loud

but no one can hear.

So it gets damaged.

Damaged product,

go on whimpering

only talking with the eyes.

The eyes can never deceive

especially when the eyes are

as red as my pajamas

or my notebook

or my favorite team’s colors,

the 49’ers or Chicago Bulls.

The flare up the nostril has given me something

to be aware of: damage cannot be undone.

It hurts many people.

Damage can cause tears to flow like water

the heart to harden

the face to freeze

hands to shake

feet to run

mouth to be silent.

The moment the product is damaged

no one can take back what was done.

The moment has gotten still.

But for what?

Am I to fall to the floor and

dance because I see

a new blood line of ancestors

or should I fall because

I have been

you have been

we have been


I am so weak in my throat.

I wish I had hot coffee to scorn

my damaged voice

so I can let out

a cry.


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