Brittle Bones Poem by Derek Kuborn

My tree limbs grow in even tolls
to carry the dead i hold in full.
But my painted skin it peels and peels
Until my bones are all that show.

As I'm standing in a frame so old
I hear a sound that makes me jolt.
The spiders have now made this home.
And they're coming for me and my bones.

I said all I've got are these brittle bones.
They may just break or they may just hold.
You can take these bones but leave my world alone.
I said all I've got are these brittle bones.