Woman

Some days I am like a beautiful woman Awake in the morning My smile an embrace Everyone hates a beautiful woman Sometimes she is a lake people die in She walks in and People talk and Some begin to hate and Hunger eats at the seams of underpants Everyone eats nervously You call yourself a

Self Pity, a Poem by Alma Hall

I would like a red carpet into Heaven for all that I’ve done, A flying carpet into Heaven for all that I’ve done, And when it’s hard in Heaven, and when I’m angry in Heaven, I would like to sit in a cherry tree and eat and touch the clouds. I may forgive you but