Poem by Doniell Cushman
My first heart was broken so many times
I couldn't bear to identify it And when I returned to do a teaching observation at my old high school Choir-man remembered me as the girl who was always crying My first heart questioned "why me?" I no longer do I've chosen what to care about and it's no longer over why Philosophy asks why Philosophers ask why not I simply ask how And when I really want or need it when I ask Determines if My new heart asks how © Doniell Cushman. All Rights Reserved. This poem or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a review. All rights reserved by Doniell Cushman.
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AuthorDoniell Cushman, B.A. cum laude Archives
June 2022
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