All Quiet On the Western Front
I didn’t know enough
was enough
until it started
to bleed,
till the cold
metal dug under,
clipped nails,
trimmed skin,
munching piece
by piece like
Pac-man would cherries
or colorless ghosts
Father once said,
You can never have enough
I don’t think
father knew
when enough
was enough till
it was beaten,
battered,
and bruised.
Copyright © Parker Daniells | Year Posted 2009
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