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Box of Bones
 
Some sorrows strip of us of our very flesh,
corrosive hatred rakes away sinews, tendons
and that covering of many colors...
One mistake undid me
There was no forgiveness laying in wait
Constant pressing nothingness answered
my letters and lent me a broken heart
What has an old Mother but her family
One choice that consumed me, destroyed me
A man whose fists reformed my bones...
and I am pariah absolute
Little faces never seen, little names
whispered in prayers, unanswered
Joy of the golden years denied to she who
is hated for accepting the brutality
that nearly killed
See my bones hunker in my cell,
all that is left of a woman who loved
against the rules

By WolfPoet

© 2018 WolfPoet (All rights reserved)

 

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