A heavy jute bag
lifted mountains of sorrow
etched within his ribs
Slices of lifetime
hiccupped their way through his lips
bitterness gushing
Back bent itself curved
under years of misery
it rewrote its shape
He breathed in the skies
his breath the salt of horizons
burning through his lungs
Wrinkles carved within
his face a mausoleum
written by dark fate
Reading of the poem:
Geetha Balvannanathan's Blog - Isis Tratum