Frailty
My bones are like corroded iron bars.
I am weak like termite-eaten teak trees.
My physique and psyche have many scars.
My inner organs, like winter blooms, freeze.
I get up and sit on my bed to pray.
I am unable to pray. I fumble.
Am I a damn donkey? Why should I bray?
I accept. I know that I am humble.
Do all these affect me? I don't think so.
My arrows often seem to boomerang.
It's life. I don't know from where the winds blow.
Can I sing again the songs I once sang?
My poems don't have the flair they once had.
Though I feel blithe sometimes, often I'm sad.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
