Far from my mind is the thought
of what I may possess
or what others have not

A place between understanding,
perhaps
education is not the measure
of a man’s knowledge
and experience is only one of many

I cannot find the sound of reverence
echoing down hallowed halls;
as though none had been before
today sounded the first call

Close to my hands
I keep a record of my worth,
in the breadth of time
only a penny,
or a half

For my version of verse
or lines of ordered rhyme
my price to pay is most dear;
what value placed by history
is never mine to proclaim
nor fear

In certainty I match sounds
with color, emotion and sight
a garden grown from flesh and bone
through darkness, death and plight
misery and ecstasy
joined in militant march;
to fight a battle not my own
and take a…