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