deepundergroundpoetry.com
Calloused
My sunny-side eludes me,
jaunty digression falls.
Stuck in sharpest cage I know,
scream to silent to these walls.
They soak up scraps of aura,
like hungry on skin-pore..
Draining me, obsolete
at Patience' door.
Want to lick a finger-
and turn a paged timeline.
I'm my own bookmark
and hum a verse of Find...
"Negate fate's body pain-
give me the strength to stand,
I am but porous filter
with hard tries to understand."
Not strong enough to serve
with limbs in weakened fend..
But hope, I could be now
what I once was then.
Never whole, but passing,
eluding shadow's gate.
Warhorse all but broken
trying not to harbor hate.
With all my pieces glued up tight
from cold jagged-bottle's dine,
I kiss those absent fingers-
and stroke calloused Hands of time.
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