Warm the skin at neck
as cold the rain
makes runnels
upon and beneath
not soon for relief
But then again, none said that it would
Long the days
at childhoods end
seem lost forever
in the dream
of our past
All the heart strings strung
some few wither, some few break
sometimes splintering for tensions sake
no few are fruitless
though some may bind
bringing numbness and with it madness
left hollowed not hallowed
lame of limb and wanting numb of mind
Dave M Brackeen
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