I wrote this poem during a difficult point in my life. But everyday I feel the pressures of a cruelly beautiful reality and I still smile. I laugh like its going out of style. Play games like its juvenile. But that’s just me. And I WANT TO SAY… Thank you for reading .
Poor Ride
flood took the car
but left me
leave no food
for the crows to eat
commuting to uncharted lands
by public means
the smell of overripe piss
the signs of distress
no right to pursue happiness
for those who have less
in a world full of deficits
those of meager means are encouraged
to be hopeless
ignore social protocol
and still not be seen
as people cast their eyes to the side
to avoid awkward scenes
is this life or the residue of a nightmare’s dream?
Love Always, Esha
300triedbywater.com 