This Broken Body
When I was young, I was dropped into a fire
That broke my face and left it marred.
Just a monster climbing higher,
But from normal pursuits barred.
I ignore the stares across my chest,
As I hold my broken head high.
There is only me to try my best
But it is so much easier to lie—
And cover my face with this cloth of mine,
Hiding the marks of a prior time,
So precariously balanced on a line,
But still I slowly climb.
This body fails me as I near the top,
Hunting for the existence of another near.
Looking back upon the drop,
I’ve come quite far to make it here.
I’m still not there, but I can climb no more,
So I pass along the torch--
Perhaps my children will read the ancient lore,
And follow me up nature’s front porch.
Here comes my broken body,
As I face my blackened toll.
They can mock the appearance of my body.
But they can’t see my soul.
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