On Poem by Wes Thompson

On



through the jaws of a wolf
the day you were born
I buried my bible
and peeled roses off thorns
your name rolled off my tongue
as bones harden with age
scars laugh at regret
time chips at the cage
and you dreamed of the morning
but laughed with the moon
not quite forgiving the sun
for rising too soon
in your pockets I found
small reminders of love
sentimental defiance
toward empty skies far above

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