i was ok, ok?
under a shard of cardboard
nobody poked me
nor I did a poke
i got over a day
then another
i hurt myself hard
but persisted
the hood was good
they all knew me
knew i was cool
i could play
on the hill
up over the water
i breathed
down on the ground i grieved
from the womb to the tomb, wanting
i was ok again
the eggs was cooked
the salt wind filled my waning nose
that bird chat called me
some boy made a hill out of sand
under a shard of cardboard
nobody poked me
nor I did a poke
i got over a day
then another
i hurt myself hard
but persisted
the hood was good
they all knew me
knew i was cool
i could play
on the hill
up over the water
i breathed
down on the ground i grieved
from the womb to the tomb, wanting
i was ok again
the eggs was cooked
the salt wind filled my waning nose
that bird chat called me
some boy made a hill out of sand