Everytime. Somebody Writes a poem
Other people
get hold. Of it
And hold it
upside, down
look at it in
a mirror and pull it,
To Pieces
and Rearrange it,
And peering
over the tops of their matchboxes,
Try to
decide what he is Writing about.
When i’ve
finished this Poem,
I Don’t
want you to go
Pulling it
to pieces
And dissecting
its HEART out,
trying to
decide. What I am writing about
So I will tell
you.
I am protesting
about world poverty.
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