Hide misery in hair and lunacy in bones,
struggle-on and don't offer a "thank you."
Suitcases drag from gate to gate like bricks,
heavier than the weight of consistent character.
Stowaways are brittle, crumble, and faint,
until the attendant of the soul is something.
Cruel perception squelches with paled-panic,
I have indeed been aboard the wrong flight.
No comments:
Post a Comment