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Thirty-oh

You’ve never
heard Me
This I know
I have cried
amidst
the stench-enclosing walls
that is my Home
that is my Skin
Drive me Tiny
in this way
to loathe myself
even more

Your
polished youthfulness
pushes
disrespectfully
and yet
oh so politely
Idealistically so
You have yet
to collide with
Gravel in your shoes
Intimately irrevently experience
Road Rash scraping
thighs and knees
and hopes

I have
so ached
Your Breath
would baptize
Air and Life
but
No

And yet
You still believe
(and still push)
and I’ll not
bear Your Sorrow
Your Eyes
the moment
You realize
Triumph here
comes tainted
by the
thirty pieces of silver
paid Forward

Porcelain-faced
Treasured One
You don’t hear me
Quiet now
I know

c2016 GC Cameron

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