Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Nothing Great

Share a cup of air with me,
frame my picture in the walls of your mind.
Have mercy for my weakness,
for in your sight I am nothing great.

People bury the remains of my memory
in partitions between patients;
my neck is broken and I cannot move;
I can't feel the toes that once touched your floor.

Touch the cold metal with my finger,
Pen my meltdown as you see fit,
Disturb the settled silt in my head,
Carve your name into my unready eye.


[20:31|13.12.011] ©c.thomas.carter

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