Scorn

Always stretching,

Always reaching,

Always striving.

Always falling,

Always failing,

Always crying.

Behind grit teeth, swallowing back every plea.

On bone-deep bruises, crawling hand and knee.

There is no respite, no safety, no weathering this storm.

On that sad and lonely autumn day a star burned out.

But a brand new curse was born.

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Published on January 25, 2024 16:39
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