Does anyone know

Really

That the ends of life are….
Rattled with dried

Labors

Notes left to oneself
Be true
Good

Play dead.Suffer little children.
Tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow

Suffering into the light
Heal
The last time was so close.

I don't write what you want.

when I was young
Is a song.

I, however, a l …am a broken slab.
A well of  drenched
marinade.

You could save me

Yet…you

Fold my poetry over
Into

Daylight’s

Hampers.

Wherein I  lie.
Crimped
edges of a

Masterpiece


Caroline Shank
March 25, 2025