Runaway Writes Poems To Her Diary

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