Oct 19, 2022
1 min read
Debt
A poem
The library book I need —
but have no discipline to read
— the good intentions
I write
in rows of rubbed-out marks
— the things I long for
wait patiently
for me to keep a promise.
I am lost to nothing
more than my own lack —
…destined to be scared
into submission.
— Debt rapes us all, the best he can.
