Reid@YWP

I take my coffee sweet, 

It's less bitter on my taste, 

It takes a little honey, 

And a dash of milk to make. 

I am grateful for the rising sun,  
For every day that’s just begun.  
The golden light that warms my face,  
And time that moves at its steady pace.  

Dear America, 

There you go again: 

Reciting beautiful words 

That no one cares about. 

My broken mouth waits impatiently; 

I’d like to garden

My own heart,

To pull the weeds of sadness

And hate

From the foundation

I sprout from,

To plant seeds of hope