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a poem by Jonathan Bright, Jr

I could feel it change
my pockets
broke a dollar
and became a bit thinner
I could feel it…
it was hollow
in the middle
and there wasn’t enough
it reminded me
of that time
when I had nothing left to drink
in my cup
I felt the heat
of the sahara
with expectations
of heavy rain
you can break
a dollar at any time
but even the man who claims
to know tomorrow
doesn’t know if tomorrow
gon feel the same

From Genre: Urban Arts No. 3

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Genre: Urban Arts No. 8

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The Tragic Type of Beautiful