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Rose Young Poem
The Year of September 11th
The year of September 11th
The year my mother died
The year the World and I
Both sat down and cried
The World, for all its tragedy
Its rubble and debris
I, for the mom who late at night
Once rocked me on her knee
The World it lives life different now
It’s cautious and afraid
I just don’t know how to live,
And so instead I pray.
Copyright © Rose Young | Year Posted 2014
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Rose Young Poem
SIDEWALK DOOR
I spend all the time I have alone
Knowing that there’s no place left to call home
The winter nights they chill me to the bone
Snow comes down upon this broken stone
There’s nothing here for me
The world’s gone blind as far as I can see
Home’s a place I used to know
But then a job loss, drink, and I’m alone
I sit here perched
A fixture on the street
….Touch me and bring my soul to life.
The pavement floor offers no warmth
The passerby’s they turn their eyes away
Every detail on this sidewalk
I’ve etched it in my mind
I know its every line, its every crack
I’ll never step upon a one, and break my mama’s back
Shut your door and leave my world behind
Roof sky and sidewalk door
The only home I call my own
My blue roof sky and sidewalk door
Copyright © Rose Young | Year Posted 2014
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