Too Worn Out

Too Worn Out

 

Incessantly insisting ‘keep the peace’

and dry my useless tears,

forgetting that I bear

a pain beyond my years.

 

‘Wake up and smell the weeds’

tomorrow isn’t promised

nor is later,

to be honest.

 

Holding hope in my hand

until it escapes through these fingers

like sand.

Simply a shell lingers.

 

Cardinals chirp atop trees.

Brown twigs,

without leaves sway

in a dry rainforest.

 

I’d rather be blind

than watch a leman break,

coming away a lifeless

grey soul to take.

 

Regardless of the glory,

despite the sweet taste of the sun,

Another victim of the system.

Simply a lesson learned.

 

For Paul Lawrence Dunbar

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