Sunday, January 16, 2011

Contruct #19

as i lie face down
cold stench of mud and blood
fills my nostrils
my body-
so broken
my spirit-
past the point of beaten
i have not the fight left in me
now the blows come down
my enemy knowing i lack the fight
moves in for the killing stroke
the world brings heavy its final assault
intended to bury this fool who believed

no hero am i
at

1 comment:

  1. Aj StrongJanuary 28, 2011 at 9:03 AM

    Written sometime in 2004.
    A theme I've mined from time to time- the failed father.

    ReplyDelete

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