Lost Masterpiece - Poem by Laurence Overmire
Was born black in 20th century America.
He was a shoeshine boy and a waiter
A garbage man and a handyman
A store clerk and a construction worker.
In fact, he spent so much time surviving
He barely had time for his art.
He died when he was 50.
And no one ever heard of him again.
(Previously published in The Inditer, March 2000)
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You