Te Indi Poet Free verse

This Play is Not About Us

The preacher told the crowd to go home and love 
on their family
You to the far right and back of me
can't know
that the warmth of blankets keep me home
How many doorways should I enter
holding out for hope?

The sprawl in my chest
pulsing from upset
is often tamed
enough to wake and earn my wage

Bartering with God
my soul the fee
May it go unnoticed
that it's a worthless thing
I make no promises
I take no oath
Just living until all the stops just go

I'm a tired thing
spinning in circles
believing the path
however just tracks 
of the other lost and fallen

I'll wait on God
Surely He sees
that I am wrapping myself up
Silly clumsy little sheep

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