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Poem

Runaway writes poems to her diary


Dearest Diary In The Land
Is PP not the best poetess at hand
I look at my palms and I say yes
I am the very, very best
To my eyes, I'm the one that counts
The fingers holding life paramount

oh never mind poem gods
i'll bring you out some other day

i can't write
in the darkness of night

to my friends that put money in my
cup as I go through my transition
in life, living in a cardboard box on
the lonely streets of Seattle
I thank you, PP

Here's a poem for you



a stray cub cries tears
it's like blood to sharks on streets
she's cornered by fists

there's no escaping
his evil intent of harm
screams to no avail

badly beaten girl
China porcelain shattered 
bleeding life away


an angel saves her
wings upon she rides her fate
praying for her life

prognosis though bleak
lamb of God please save her life
prayers bring closure

Paris Pachecho

connie pachecho

12/29/16

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