I Succumb
I succumb to ends of days
To ends of nights
Where the wind lays low
Where the bough bends, not breaks
I reject I’ll fitting garments
That sinch my waist and
Smother me with stiff, forgotten lamb’s wool
Where denim, devoid of elasticity, binds
I witness the belief of disbelief
A fool’s handshake, his
Tight, sweaty grasp
Squeezing my cold, limp
Hand of apathy
I suffer at the dire reach of poverty
The stricken, the voiceless
The heartache of lowly demise
In a state where trees and stars serve as meager shelters
I crave the certainty
Of tenderness that
Blows away the darkness
That harnesses a blistered soul
I rejoice in companionship
That fills the inherent void we mask
Embracing weariness
Bolstering the broken hearted
I relish the satiety of existence
Where wisdom imparts
Where empathy prevails
Where acceptance unites