Poetry – Durable, Pt.1 By Ricardo Sexton



Hey mom, I would prefer: if I had never, ever woken up
I dreamt: I was a player scoring a goal at the world cup
Me, sprinting after the ball, I looked too good out there
Without having to be pushed around in this wheelchair

I was born dead… Lying on a bed… Living by a thread.
Focus! I wish I was ‘Adolf Hitler’ in another incarnation
To have these ‘atrophied muscles’ as a condemnation
This is a sentence: for rapists, for sick corrupt politics

I breathe instead. Humiliated to be clothed and cleaned
To be bathed too, and for food and water I’m mouth fed
Guys my age are skateboarding, dancing, and surfing
But I’m crippled. “I’m the stage of boarding suffering”

© Ricardo Sexton




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