In memory of

The drawn out strum of yesteryear
among the trickles of my mind
pervasive gentle wanderings
for the footing left to find,
a hand from each a palm
to feel the roughen strewn
reaching among the blurry words
of a bloody laden plume.

Little nudging verses
that flutter across the page
beautiful rhymes of stifling
or concise and widespread rage,
the breath is seldom known
from the anguish of this pen
each release a darkened womb
of the listless, whom they and them.

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