CurbsideA Poem by NautiliSat up suddenly on a friend’s hard couch, My father’s finger pointing, “ Don’t be a slouch!” Stirred my coffee as that dream swirled 'round my head.. rubbing my stiff neck and missing my bed. Walked the tired streets searching for a reason, found them all out of stock, out of season. So here am I, all messed up, here am I, all dressed up, My few belongings in my knapsack. What do I really lack, but a person who understands the power of a chance, And a briefcase in my hand? If opportunity knocks upon my door, “He don't live here anymore!”, my landlord will be sure to say, Since he threw my stuff curbside yesterday.
© 2012 NautiliAuthor's Note
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12 Reviews Added on December 20, 2010 Last Updated on July 23, 2012 |


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