Poem -

Recorded History

Recorded History

Recorded History

He wore his dreams in blue,
 ink,
 from head to toe 
He always kept them covered, 
private, 
so the world would never know,

He lived his life in silence,
 secret, 
eyes on the ground .
Knowing he was vulnerable, 
fragile, 
to every sound. 

See his left forearm, 
a tiger,
in repose, 
his response to a bully, 
once, 
Broke his nose.

The skull on his calf, 
his father, 
who now has gone, 
and a dollar sign for poverty,
 now, 
shows in his palm.

He stares at others, 
Eyes,
Pictured in a doubt
He sits is blue silence,
His inked questions shouting out.

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