I Bless every knuckle
bloody from beating the walls
caging me,
and every splinter earned
in repurposing wreckage,
so that my children might never know
this hollowness of being
unaware of yourself in the dark.
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Photo by Sophie Louisnard on Unsplash
Song Choice: Dear Theodosia from Hamilton
Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem was created for the Weekly Scribblings prompt given at Poets and Storytellers United, Forward Movement.
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