chunks of me — A POEM

I stash myself in words

and in borrowed thoughts.

chunks of me cover blank pages

that were once

a redemptive smile

on a broken man’s face.

the corners of his mouth

purse away my own tears

his eyes are my jailer;

unearned suffering may be redemotive,

but it holds no key for me.

the caged bird’s songs mean nothing

clipped wings are stronger than iron bars.

chunks of me cover blank pages

and in words and borrowed thoughts

I am free.