Mason Maestro


Wretch - Poem by Mason Maestro

Hell, I might as well be dead
If I can't see how good it must feel to be
Greasing human cogs for the machine
Without some ailing wretch like me

Bombarding the still soft tissue
With sticks and stones that irradiate around
In the heap of unspeakable feelings I'd found

Faced forward I stand slouched alone
Turned over the stone of my bone
Of my own disappointment
Succumb to the sum to ascend back home

Topic(s) of this poem: cancer


Poet's Notes about The Poem

The first original poem to be used for the lost compilation novelty - New Orange Chronicles

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, March 25, 2015



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