WRITE ME A POEM (VII): SHARDS

contorted by wind, flawed as it is with my breed
mere armatures for ice or snow,
mere mortal munching incantations of gods unknown,
like palm trees resolve to endure for now,
the boisterous wind that caress their balls,
i bend here, there, everywhere to the musical of the wind

then, comes autumn, like leaves, I fall
uprooted from the loamy of my heritage,
and planted on the sandy surface of foreign cultures,
ripped apart, burn to ashes, the indentity of me
because, I must be as patient as a toad,
lurking in a pool of it's own tears, for that fly,
whose mama couldn't instruct how to fly,
before he was snatched from her arms,
leaving her nipples wet with milk

i am broken, and I will break all over again,
as the cold reality of yesterday's dreams
pierce hard through my skin, 
like mosquito bores holes through my soul, 
its sharp blade against my throat,
muting my cry for help with the puff of what's left of me

write me a poem about shards

#Pengician #SSA
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