Eraser Marks
My belly grows
in proportion to my amnesia
more each year
Like, I forget among these throwaway treasures
I’m an heir to a kingdom unimaginable
a stick figure who only knows design by pencil
trying to imagine a sunrise without eraser marks
If this Word ain’t on repeat in my heart
I grow bloated and forgetful
Filling up on fast food
Outside a banquet hall
Shameful nobody, poverty in my bloodline
purchased by his blood,
I’m not working for a finish line
I’m working from His finished line
Born a blind man, boasting in clear vision
Until He gave me vision
My belly grows
In proportion to my amnesia
That’s half a truth
A dead man, brought to life, only looks like he’s dying
7 thoughts on "Eraser Marks"
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Get it, bro. Love your use of sound!
Bravo!
John, it’s great to read your work again!
Thanks Jordan! I’m looking forward to reading yours!
This poem keeps coming around. I like it!
Thank you!
I am surprised that I, an agnostic, love your poems. But I do