M1...

i do not wish to have a halo
above my head
this early morning

angel,
just be invincible

i have always maintained this in
my mind
i am better in this
frail body, these brittle bones,
these tiny fingers

society gives respect to
the kindness of feigned weakness
the humility of
having to appear like a hollow tree

as i step out of the door
i take the shape of this pigeon

the messenger of soft wings
whiter intentions

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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