Skin & Bones

Skin and bones make up the throne of my identity
A heart of flesh and a smile alone
Delicate stitching in a land locked soul
Drifting and dreaming of that island in which I claim
Whether it makes sense or seems insane
Rain trickling off my hair
Down my face, lips shutter in despair
Lost the one I love, but life shall not be the undertaking of the best of me
Earthquake of misfortune shakes
Squeezed the life of sight from vision
But death of suffering will not quench this fire within,
A passion of compass to sail the ship from turning in
Winds drive on heavy mind
Creatively spinning, crafting a colorful strength in step-
Will not waver on the path,
Flying or falling, fists stiff against opposition
This child is grown into a woman, tattered and broken
Carry on, wearing a face of free disposition
I will not back down,
I am chosen, I keep a fighting position

Original poetry by KeilaCoateWomack (all rights reserved)