Having been born with a rock in my mouth
Bitter, irregular, something worth
Spitting-out, but nevertheless
It stayed, hung-out
I swallowed it but did not turn into a beauty
I choked barely accommodating the jaggedness
Somehow it prophesied the rest of life's coloring book
And left me to skim through its pages mumbling
They say the world needs a savior
Someone who'll verbose themselves into
Power, into that type of prestige
When they can't even utter words that
Ultimately mean, "Why not join me
For a drink, a meal, you look
Exhausted." The pink suits you fine, emphasizes
Your high cheek bones but it makes me look
Like a clown, nor does gray suit your head's patches
I thought you wanted a different effect.
Ironically, we are all tainted with white-
Rather, it taunts us, white whose bosoms exude salvation
It makes me feel quite gravid really, not in the prolific
Sense, but impregnated with something that I'll have to
Shit instead
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