Patchwork Heart
The wind thickens beyond measure
And life forces couple beyond fathom.
A chest of broken toys for a treasure
And a walk in the sun for a leisure.
Like a cigarette on a winter's night,
My will burns out slowly, wholly;
Ashes decorate the void of the window sill
As the filter corks have a way to loll their bellies
on the cocoa floor, graceless.
I've lived my whole life on an ox-cart;
Now the trail snaking down the oaks of my future
gets stonier as tombs of foliage crunch to the helm.
This life is a whirlpool of fates
and other things I cannot change;
There is a wretch and disgust
that comes with every rain season,
And today my thoughts are of a better poet than me
whose strings lost taut every time
he plucked them to sing his sonnets;
Much is left to wonder of what will become
of this my hopeless opus.
The fabric of solace opens its arms
before the wretch of a loner,
But my patchwork heart feels a cold beyond its warmth.
4/11/16
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