Thursday, February 27, 2020

It was beautiful out—can’t you see?

I road a mile and a half up Rocky Butte.

For my thoughts could see.

Later to write a note to a lucky human being.

Hey you!

Did you read…?

I speak a poetic mind.

Soon you’ll hear my divine.

First, I have a book to complete.

I’ll be renaming BOURGEOISIE…

It’s pronounced, BOOJ-WAH-ZEE.

About a boy bringing light to colorism.

The village he’s from is past racism.

If it’s not one things it’s another.

You won’t meet his mother.

Close your eyes; that’s his color.

And one last thing, he was my imaginary friend.

WAS, as in, growing up he emerged from thoughts within.

And for the Butte I wrote at with love.

I left my heart up there so you all could trust.

Thoughts which arrived from dust.

And my soul in faith you all now my fate.

Bringing a deed I follow without a maze.

A journey in peace I protect.

Prosperity in light I write.

Fail, well, I might.

It’s try no. 2…

But I’m good.

Cuz’ now,

I have,

You.

-Budd

Born and raised in Portland, Oregon, Budd writes because no one can 'read' him. And it's a great way to hide public thoughts...

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