Wry

Wry

Talks to me sometimes,

tells me hollow things,

like “you’re no good” and

“why so shallow.”

and doesn’t bring back any good memories, deceit and vilification,

devil on my shoulder,

hammers away upon the anvil in my knees,

crushes and breaks bone and tendons,

spontaneous combustion says I was birthed from nothing and have no value,

what do I believe?

and do these things make me?

do I need some compassion to

validate my existence,

if I were dry,

would it even matter?

speak from your place of nobility,

voice betrays all humility,

yeah, preach from your humble heart,

I’m humble boasts he,

greatest of all the lowly am I,

chuckles spryly,

then walks away,

nothing left to say.

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