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Broken Hands

When sometimes, I write something real
my hands feel broken
as if I were a dysfunctional keyboard
that could only hammer back
at wild tumbling thoughts.

Forehead resting on clenched knuckles,
masochistically thanking
a bruised mind
for each self-inflicted blow.

It should not be this way,
I should feel uplifted and inspired,
but broken hands
can be as heavy as fallen rocks

and I must wait
for the road ahead to be cleared away.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2023




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things