The steam it takes me To reach each 6p.m. Is unsustainable, exhaustingly so With knicks and clotted flesh Bruises aging brown mix with, overlap the latest Deep purples and ill hued blues I am beaten by my own doing Little to nothing is compensation But the things i have touched Broken made new again From raw to finished, tangible My hands, rough, scarred, Talented and beat up As is my body. Nightly. By the end of the week i am a sight Too tired to want morr from life. Filthy and sore, single, alone There has got to be more to life Then the beast of burden i resemble If not be the ending too soo See i am beaten at the end Tired... Goodnight.