Dead Lift Poem by Leslie Xavier

The pain up my spine,
through to the emote seat.
The burden so huge,
from baggage a couple months,
and a few more days old.
It almost broke my back,
the forced dead lift,
straining the ligaments,
joints at pop-out limits as I burst.
The words, in anger,
and a chagrined potent mix;
salt and water, two little drops!

The pounding man outside,
the hounding ghosts inside.
I deserve this ride alone?
A little after the reddened cheeks.