Finding my fingers
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I trudge alone, Though it doesn’t seem so, From the day I left her house of warmth Amidst tears and fervent protestations I was shoved out into this cold bitter path In which i trudge alone. Onward i am forced …
Great artists become great because they were nurtured in some way by some woman or women somewhere, in the same way that great people become great because some woman somewhere cared. As she cooked and cleaned and bathed and rebuked …
Yes, it is your show. 🙂 Find your fingers. I am sure you will.
[Al Kags Officially] Finding my fingers: There was a time. There was a time when I was a poet of s… http://t.co/hhUeoTG8vW via @alkags
Finding my fingers: There was a time. There was a time when I was a poet of s… http://t.co/Qc8u582ly7 via @alkags
RT @TheAltFocus: Finding my fingers: There was a time. There was a time when I was a poet of s… http://t.co/Qc8u582ly7 via @alkags