poor as a church mouse | poem

poetry

I was as poor as a church mouse 
living on pints of despair 
the crumbs of isolated sorrow
I found among empty plates 
of bones and gravy
enjoyed by those who have too much
of too little. 

I was as rabid as a stray dog, also   
understood instinctively 
the power of crazed anger
given from an elder. 
it’s funny, 
when I think back on years of becoming …