People we call broken


The people we call broken

Are more often warriors

burried under rotting carcasses

Of everything they fought for,

Stood with

They may not stir 

And light may bounce off their blank stare

But they are not gone,

Not yet

They are not broken

If they haven’t left the battlefield

Where the humus spits out more heroes

Than time can inhume.

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4 thoughts on “People we call broken”

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