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My Illegible Handwriting

All my letters
are deformed,
beyond a cure.

Contest judges
trample over my
clumsy curvy lines.
Voice of my bruised
verse is not heard. 

Sentences zigzag
with slow-moving
fingers. Unanswered
questions become
coffin-bearers.

Ambition is lost
in the cloudy 
chirography.
Black box sounds
my broken dreams.

First appeared in The Literary Hatchet

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things