Upon a Bed of Gravel
Exposed and open.
I can not expect to be rescued soon.
I wont pretend my pain will end
Many scars and shattered wounds held.
Sunlit nights and darkened days...
Find my hands bloodied
Attempting to protect buckeling knees
Descending.
As I come to rest,
Upon a bed of gravel!
Too wasted to pretend logic!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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