I did not perceive the beauty
of nature all around
I didn’t raise my eyes to see
more than where I was bound
What I thought trash now has splendor
cold sting of the floor, at the break of dawn
A cobweb’s clinging surrender
A rusty nail who’s shine is gone
Each poem contains a heartbeat
the poet\'s blood it bleeds
old waste now honey excretes
in deeply planted seeds
Far underground they make a sound
Each critic\'s stab a discarded scab
shed on the ground becomes a jewel found
the reader to grab