When I was little

Shins bruised with dirt

Nightmares keeping me up

Cruel words thrown on the pavement

I would write letters to G-d

I’d send them out my window like a little airplane

Watch them land in the bushes right below

Sure they reached

And slide right back into bed

19 Apr This entry was published on April 19, 2012 at 2:25 am and is filed under Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.