Charles Monroe

To Think With Invisible Ink - Poem by Charles Monroe

These words, to you, may sound absurd
I Haven’t wrote a single word
Since like September 23rd
Oh how I miss to twist and shape
And let the words from me escape
I am divinity’s mistake.
I am Perfection of the damned
A bastard child of Uncle Sam
My card is green as eggs and ham
Down Mango Street with Pen in hand
They call me Caramelo-Man
Sister Sandy’s bag of Candy
Give me something that can last me
I can’t write a single word
Maybe this was not my turn
But a lesson meant to burn
Like my kind will never learn
Momma pray for my return
May I write a single word.
Poverty, she’s always near
Almost like a puppeteer
All the things I tried to do
Failed to get away from you
Maybe fortune wasn’t meant
Think of times I badly spent
Searching for that perfect scent
To deter me from lament
Quickly as she came she went
Like a sin that won’t repent
This, to you, may sound absurd
I haven’t wrote a single word.

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Poem Submitted: Monday, October 7, 2013

Poem Edited: Monday, October 7, 2013

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