Five
Broken fingers in this never-ending quest
To find myself
To find my truths.
Each one plays distinctly in my mind
Each painful anecdote
Proving a statement
My lips never could.
This existence we strive for
Is littered with obstacles
That tries to break us
That usually break us
Slipping under superficial structures
To set atrophy to our wonders.
Reminiscing of everyone I've ever contacted
catapulted, compromised, catalyzed, or counteracted.
My eyes shift downward
To see broken
Five once broken fingers
Which have suffered
And just like those fingers
I will one day slip back into place
Into the life I do not know
But can plan to shape
With these scarred hands.
Author notes
-Prompt-
Look at your hands. Think of what they've done in your life, where they went, who they touched, why they touched them.
A contest entry
- & that is the weapon of poetica [closes tonight] by Ryno.
300 points, ended March 11, 7 entries
Honorable winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Honesty is always appreciated
Comments
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I loved this write
I really loved where you took the prompt because where you took it just give thes "whoa" factor.
I donno if it was a typo at the second last line, but did you mean to put "can't" because if you but can it doesn't make sense to me.
I think you could've utilised some less descriptive imagery in here, but thats just personal preference.
Loved the write and the idea. Thanks for the entry.
Ryan -
Wow... This was AMAZING!!! Truly amazing! Perfectly penned. It really gives one something to think about. Great write. I really loved it.
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