Looking For the Poet in My Soul

As I walk down
A trash-littered street,
The broken beer bottles
Sparkle like diamonds in the grass.

Sunlight falls on a child's hair
As she plays on the poverty square;
She smiles joyously no matter the unhappy odds
Stacked against her.

My mother's nurse,
Her father died a week and a half ago
Like mine four months ago—
I can no more mend her heart
Than I can my own.

Life more often than not
Leaves me broken and empty;
But I know if I slowly catch my breath,
I can make everything beautiful.

poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!