By Our Will There Springs

by our will
there springs
our fatigue-
able days
an ever work-
man's limb
lays dead
half-spirited
half-spent life
of industry
what's left
by our will
we feel
half-dead
down midnight's moon
and howl-
complain
of our will
by the day
and no one but me
who thanks
my broken limb

poem by R. Absalom Catarata
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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