Poem
The Analogy of Six
Six
is my lucky number
Six
is the beginning of this slumber
Six
is the month of my dad and sister
Six
is the only hope to be better.
Yet,
six is another scream of string
Six
is how yelling consumed more than smiling
And
six is the shape of rotten hearts,
Having
no clue what’s the matter of six
Looking
up and down just makes me sick
Drowning
into the ocean that’s what it licks.
Being
six is kind of bitter nor sweet.
Isolating
the shame and guilt to feed the devil’s word.
finding
a space to sit for a minute.
blowing
the strength, blaming the sword.
for
cutting the heartbeat we live in,
for
slashing the root we faith in.
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