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
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