Any day now
the weights will lift
the back will straighten
I will resume
a life worth
living.
But till that day
Iโll carry on
crawling the
mud and
dirt of old.
The patterns are
the same as
always
the cries still
silenced by
bruises from
childhood.
Any day now
the sun will rise
on light blue sky
the seagulls chasing
the fish left rotting
on the beach of
the lake
of old
