My Cup Overflows

Poem By William J. (Skip) Henderson Jr.

I have no clue as to why,
I enjoy confronting those...
Who believe my life,
Has been a trimming of poetic verses.
Oh,
The reverse of that is so true.

To this very day...
Most of the neighborhood children,
Are illiterate and can not read.
Or know how to write or spell their names.
I wish this was an exaggeration!

And living with a masquerading poverty.
You know...
The kind accepted BUT in New England,
Denied.
It's more charitible to discuss,
The 'richness' of the environment.
Than to reveal and expose the real wounds,
Spotted as misplaced bowels...
Through the beautiful Oak and Maple trees.
Hiding the manicured suppression.

Oooohhh...
Such disguising magnificient beauty,
Just has to be seen and digested.

I have no clue as to why,
I enjoy confronting those...
Who believe my life,
Has been a trimming of poetic verses.
However...
Poetic is the existence I embrace,
As known and witness as it exists...
In all of its contradictions.

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