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.
Published 19th May 2015
| Edited 20th Jul 2015
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Very nice rhyme. An Asian culture glues back broken pottery with gold and silver because they believe the broken to be more beautiful and whole. You will not become bitter in having become learned.
19th May 2015 11:33pm
What a beautiful comment! Thanx so much ;)
Such lovely thoughts, with gold and silver, will remember that!
be well
~d
Such lovely thoughts, with gold and silver, will remember that!
be well
~d
20th May 2015 2:08am
Yes broken is beautiful, especially when you start to use that to help others.
21st May 2015 11:47pm
