Friday, August 6, 2010


we are the broken, the torn asunder
damaged deformed defective
the scarred
wounded and bloodied
split and stitched
we survive
the anvils of crush

the shrapnel of hate

from dirt and metal and asphalt and ice
from mothers womb
and concrete sheets
we are extracted
asymmetrical scraps of what we were
once perfect in our imperfection
wholly we you me

we rise and rise and rise
and rise
on screwed black wings patched with pure will
destiny drives us to heights unattained
in dreams 

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