Brittle backbones break by bending
Bending back too far to give
Bent for the want of a care
Or even a sign
Yet more is lost on the air waves
Never produced
In the cold silence
Trapped between a bloodier exchange
And suspended by the thick air
This hazy cloud of dust
Scattered in the morning sunlight
Filtered through opaque windows
Of neglected dirt on glass
Another creation
Ceasing the rationalization
Cause of the realization
As paralyzing as the severed nerves
Cut by these shards of bone
Lying cold in the shadows
Just beneath the warm rays
Cutting through the ebb of night
Though the glass is brittle
It does not break for them
The rays bend for it
And for that they penetrate easily
Through the ignorance and neglect
Not taking for their own
Never taking
But giving
Only giving
Always giving
I've got nothing.
Perhaps I've been shaving too close. There is nothing of quality still left in my head to post in this section.
I'm thinking about changing it to Pb and sticking a finger down its throat...
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