As the creep stands in the door way
The only red upon its lips
Seems to move
With swift.
Where bounty have hunts and toads are flying.
Despite reality, of beauty that falls short.
Grace where it once laid
And risen to the moon as it lays with the sun.
Trust the air to breathe new life
And surprise the fallen tears.
Where it hits pavement and bury cracks.
To sing upon a calling
And grace pews, smelling of cologne
And perfume.
Of pages and carpet, and the food filled cafeteria.
Hear the clicks of the soles and bottoms.
Watch while it’s there
And stare so knowledgeable.
Become that creep.

This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world


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