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Marshall CB Hiatt
Poems
Feb 2014
Tensile Strength
A hard iron ball,
Being pounded with hammers.
It heats, it stretches, it breaks.
The iron ball shattered, torn.
My love is like an iron ball,
Not much fun to receive.
Insignificant, unusable,
and Hard.
Put it on your desk.
It might have a purpose in the future.
I got some therapy.
I'm broken but I could not be.
I'm working on it.
Written by
Marshall CB Hiatt
21/M/Salt Lake City
(21/M/Salt Lake City)
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530
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,
Daniel Samuelson
and
Timothy
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