gretas-notebook:

Watch strangers
at the bus station
in the mornings

and on the sidewalks
and park benches.

Their faces are
hard
carved out of heartache
and aging
and broken homes;
cracked palms.

When they come for you,
let them take your bones,
spine

let wind and time
carve sorrow into your skin

remain much too soft
for a concrete world

too much ocean
for a land without sea

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