Title(S) Poem by f. berhan kebede

jotting down 'tired and tried' looks good on paper
but cannot fully explain to the reader what I'm putting down
i can fill a notebook with truths that have cut
directly below my eye
opening it
but creating a stash of polished work
is the biggest scam I've had the pleasure of attempting to being a part of
putting words together as if they had some special meaning
to make sense
or delight
or fill the belly of those who are shamed and hidden
but somehow turn dark and mysterious
read aloud
when I am no longer here to explain them
is the fear
and
unwavering result
I continue to wait for the right words
but will settle for
this
fried food offering of a complete and balanced
meal