a poem by Anita Smith
Into various pieces
Can’t be placed together
The pieces represent broken memories
Of his life
A dad that didn’t love him
A momma that didn’t raise him
A teacher that didn’t understand him
A church that didn’t pray for him
A woman that didn’t please him
A friend that didn’t trust him.
These pieces cannot be put back together
Because he keeps holding onto them
He holds them tight
Until the blood gushes from his hand.
He can’t let go
He doesn’t know how
So he continues to grab and twist
And watch the blood pour out onto the floor.
He revels in the pain
It’s all he knows.
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