deepundergroundpoetry.com
Brittle
I stand here
paused
unnoticed
brittle
and unclear
like an old locket picture
that was once held dear.
Above
is a nebular might
millions of dead eyes
are blinking
I am on solid ground
but sinking
and still
out of sight.
Gone
are all the lucky sevens
I must try to gamble
once more on life
and its rolling
jackpot heavens.
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