The Mite's Plight

in poem •  5 years ago  (edited)

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Umpire of balling earth
Squats the long polished road
With ageless voyage bowl
Varying heels attest her rhythm
In notch of a pale jaw
She reverberates countless metallic boxes
Raped by mean life
Depleted in falls, shines
Her hollow uncertain palms
Anthems milky streams of sores
She sings without tone
Fallow anonymous dreams
Gored beneath tongues
Her future can she see?
She yearns a verandah troupe
She’s sniffed no bed meal
She desires more befitting sleep
Can she join the skip?

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