Burdened MAG

By Unknown, Unknown, Unknown

   Twig fingered hands

folded in his lap.

Sitting there.

Expressionless,

save a subtle grin.

pitted, bottomless eyes

watching his joy.

Suede skin worn

taunt and weathered.

Nothing.

Occasional sigh

being reborn.

The chair,

like him,

of metal and plastic.

Small checkered extremes,

printed on his cap.

Mixed in a mussy gray.

like him.

Wounded soldier of the long

journey. road

coming to the edge.





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i love this !


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