I wanted to post my poem. I am working on my iPad? http://Somethingsithinkabout-annell-annell.blogspot.com
here is my contribution:
Real poverty means no home, feeling crazy,
rasping for breath as I sleep on the frozen earth
Praying for some passing saint to haul me up
that holy rope to heaven above
where the angels will comfort me,
folded gently in their wings of love!
Kate, this is a beautiful poem.
thank you so much for reading!
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