WHEREAS
we own
nothing:
not even our bodies,
our blood,
not our art,
our love,
our beauties,
our wants,
not even our needs,
our angers,
our fears,
our histories,
our names,
our tortures,
our minds—
O Lord,
not even our selves
YOU ARE READING
THE TWENTY SECOND YEAR
PoetryAt birth, we are all sentenced to life- to live. Highest Rankings: #4 in poembook #4 in poemcollection © z. t. corley, 2024
