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Gladioli

© 2021 by Ireland Rea. All rights reserved

Alone

Lying, thinking, last night

how to find my soul a home

where water is not thirsty,

and bread loaf is not stone,

I came up with one thing

and I don't believe I'm wrong,

that nobody,

but nobody

can make it out here alone.

~Maya Angelou

There’s a book of poems I read in the fifth grade. It was a book I had gotten from the public library and never returned. Of course around this time I didn’t necessarily understand the importance of following those types of rules.

I would go there after school sometimes when I convinced my mom I was doing after school programs, but really I would just hang around the public library. Horrible thing to lie about, but I was safe to a certain sense.