What It Is | Poems that Suck

The darkness slipped inside me
 at the end of a knotted winter scarf
  slung over the dilapidated door of a
   hotel room. 

There swung the jerking feet of my
 hopes for faith, love, brotherhood and
  a well adjusted childhood. 

It took me decades to understand
 that you can't change the shifting
  hands of Fate, much less the accidental
    slip of the foot.

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