I have had this picture for a long time.
I keep it because I weep inside and outside. Even now typing this few words - even now those words - - - - - are inside you - I feel alongside his unplanned words, I feel his hurt, trapped lost, & more .........tears, his, in my eyes. I guess he has so little energy for him to weep - leak ...............
'A poverty that imprisons the spirit'
Poverty locks humans into prison of many kinds. Survival is a description.
I have so many words I could use but they are poor alongside his feelings and tangled unformulated sentences ...........
So I leave the picture & my words with an opportunity for YOU to write * some tangled fumbling incomplete ones - unequally yours - feeling your own poverty as you enter his experience ....................
( * to write for you own tears and joining in with our poverty - alongside so many more of us)
Thank you for holding hands with me - or touching finger tips - joining in with our shared feeling of poverty ............
BHP
