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Unravelling

"Like peeling an onion" you said.
No.
More; unseaming
Slipped stitches,
Knotted aims,
Frayed edges.

Hunchbacked,
Peddling metal
Over punched pins,
Threading maydays into cloth.

Fingers fumbling at loose seams,
Unravelling weaves,
Desperate hems,
Moth eaten, scrapped themes.

Now, all I am is an empty spool,
Someone's discarded thimble.

Rethread.
Try the pattern again.

lonelinessPerseveranceSelf-awarenessSelf-discovery

Two Trees Bending ►

Comments

Travis Brow

Wed 9th Jul 2014 07:26

I like this poem, especially the pay-off.

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