My neck twitches and my childhood is over.

My neck has twitched since

eyes were free to roam.

Beckoned by lady bugs, lady people,

patch of grass, church steeple.

No adult tunnel through which

eyes must go.

No, my neck has twitched since

I learned to grow.

It twitches still, when I feel low

Sleep wrong, think slow..

When our neck twitches, it's time to Go

.

Written by corr5y (Instagram).

If you liked this poem, tip corr5y in ETH (above) or in USD (PayPal).

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