Canopy Of Broken Bones Poem by David Harris

I live under the canopy of broken bones
where my life’s demons lay,
sheltering under their scornful gaze
as night passes through to day.
Where the robbers of my soul
stand in mocking line
with claws that slash
the moments memories in time.
As darkness enraptures the night
the demons return
to the canopy of broken bones
to stare their scornful gaze
at my paradise lost
in the thunder of tormented yells.