Perfection is Imaginative

Here I Stand

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Written: August 2011

Alone, on a corner

I stand.


Businesses at rest.

A man hole exhales smoke.

Where do I go?

My stomach is livid.

My body is weak.

Hungry, I stand​.

Alone on a corner.

My teeth are getting restless

of their current living conditions.

Threatening to relocate.

My nose is attacked

by the odor of my own body.

Fingernails transport

bacteria and germs,

seeking new grounds to infect.

My hair reaching for the heavens.

Unkempt, I stand.

​Alone on a corner.

My body has been abused

by a fierce breeze

of a 13 degree winter’s night.

Tearing through my ragged shirt

and ripped jeans.

My cheeks have advanced

past your average red.

The skin on my lips

running in opposite directions.

My liquid pain

seeping through.

Battered, I stand​.

Alone on a corner.

Why did my mom

breathe the white powder?

Why did my father

show strength through a metal object?

Now living like a caged animal.

How could they?

My Providers.

On what foundation…

On whose backbone

can I lean on?

Abandoned, I stand.

​Alone on a corner

Now I’ve got to be strong

To survive in this world

with no help.

No Support.

No Love from anyone

but myself.

Independent, I stand.

​Alone on a corner.

It’s me, myself and I,

as my own provider.

Taking on responsibilities,

I wasn’t necessarily ready for.

To wealthy civilians,

I’m just another child on the street.

I may be young,

I may be alone,

But at this very moment,

I’m still standing!


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