Fourteen lying on
The sidewalk waiting
 |
| the exact metro station where I wrote this poem |
Stopping for everyone
Except himself
Alone in a crowd
And happy with
The gain of money
But it is not the
Glint of a coin or
The power obtained
It is the privilege
Of being free
Those with the liberty
Of money are able to
Be free with ease
It is hard to feel
At ease with the world
When your stomach
Is empty
And your body
Is broken
Much like your spirit
So stop and think
Fourteen is your
Ticket to freedom
to the fourteen,
rach
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