Once Upon a Poem
The crack of the whip jerked me wide awake.
I must have dozed off while pondering my fate.
Stinging and welted, my hand grabbed the pen,
Dipped it in the well and began writing again…
If we can’t love ourselves,
How could we ever love We?
We’re forced to love wealth,
But we refuse to believe.
They made rags into flags,
And said, “This is why you bleed!”
Now our love is in a shopping bag
And we kill to protect our greed.
© Christopher Allen Breidinger
Excerpt from his book “Poet Christopher’s
Scenes, Dreams, and Golden Schemes”
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