I Am Weak, A Whimp Of A Child, Scared And Vulnerable Poem by Tajma Hall

Nor a passage of scripture
written I mark blindly
the pages seem to reappear
stab my legs with health
so I wonder around
yet more water drops
on my head; squinting
I drown in your spit
I am weak
a whimper of a child
scared of running
vulnerable to the wind
that I fall down
read a passage of scripture
creating a difference
yet the early sun
rose on my dispensing sadness
I believe appearing at the
onset of my childhood