As If the Streets Crocheted Me in Poetry

This goes out to the artist that has a clear case of substance block. I call it ministry that’s currently unemployed. Yes, I want that to hurt, but no worries, God sent me to give the broke some work. And I say that with no fear. My secret is that I plan on leaving what I say right up here. The problem is you won’t let stuff go ’cause you’re afraid it will open up old wounds, but you need to master that type of pain before you worry about your peace being in line with some form of haiku. Who wants to hear some form of poetic quote? Or do you want to hear how God finally decided to pass me down this antidote?