2 FACED death in the mirror in the morning of sundown death.
I used to sleep with
Gum in my mouth
It could actually kill
Instead of keep you clean
But to clense myself I
Was baptized
Until I felt drowned.
Now I sleep with a toothpick
In my mouth.
In hopes of any type of
Sleep.
With the calming
Taste of sandalwood
Engrained within my mouth.
This poem is about:
Me
My community
My country