Osofwb

Original slices of fine white bread, 
cut into the humans figure, 
organs built from rusted bolts an stories untold
true dilemma, 
when fabricating this mish mash of broken souls, 
but yet did this creation survive, 
living not intending to die, 
I am the creation of forgery, 
Probably why, 
these visions are lying to me.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace