Few of my million daily thoughts, stories, and poems survive the battles in my head and make it to this blog.
Help me give them a louder voice.
(All poems are written by me, you can call me Zee)
You might have thought me poor
Digging for hours in the dirt
Trying to find pieces of my childhood
Yeah…they might have thought me poor
Carrying pieces of sand, acting like there are jewels in my hands…
…See they used to be my own
Earth and dirt to which i belonged
I find me poor these days
With toys already made
Play-doh i did not create
A screen play I did not write
This…none of this… is my own
It’s their thoughts that i came to believe
You might see me looking for a diamond ring, for a white car, to cover up how poor I feel
about what we are
Poet, making sense of war, humanity, love and greed. Trying to find the magic in ordinary things.
I am Zee