Friday, January 30, 2009

Fear not, my friend:

For my friend who's art locker was stolen. He'll never read this poem. I wrote it because the words were flying through my head.

Fear not, my friend:
A home is a place to fill your head,
to feed your soul, to sleep in bed.
A shallow hole is where you hide
the things you want or need inside.
When winter's cold or summer's heat
cheats you from your hole, discrete,
just find another and persevere,
a locker isn't why you're here.
Stay the course. Don't hate your peer.
Lockers are stolen every year.


Reagan said...

you are so cute

Anonymous said...

MAN! You can really lay down an awesome flow there friend!

Amanda O.

Ben & Kristi Graves said...

very nice! :)