The pop of a fresh handle, like hands placed on a rusted but polished railing
Overlooking a foreign harbor, I wish it would rain
But all it ever does is hail, like the echoing “knock” of a nail being hammered in
A subtle reminder, resembling their howls

I wish the silver I wore at my neck tired their mouths, those critics that read my life’s work
But “Never Write!”
Familiar taunts, I watch as they stare into mirrors with grins
Ignoring our pleas? Abuse is nothing new to the youth

Old scars wrapped in bitter bandages weigh in on my head’s case, I see tilted
But as long as I can get to the pier, I “shouldn’t” worry
Regardless, rain or shine, it gets exhausting having to check
Regularly, and often I ask if it is worth it, especially when it is