Threadbare

These days I wonder how much more,
aggression I can stand,
what mischief has this life in store,
to dash the dreams I planned.

These labours I cannot complete,
carve gargoyles in my soul.
They line the ring roads I repeat,
and watch me carry coal.

These lies I’d like to leave behind,
too buttered to disprove,
replaying in a tortured mind,
to cut a deeper groove.

These broken bones won’t be reset,
they keep me stuck in place.
I carry wounds I can’t forget,
behind a threadbare face.

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6 thoughts on “Threadbare

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