The Empty Canvas, Unpainted Art

Grief by Seyed Mostafa Zamani

Grief by Seyed Mostafa Zamani

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I am the sparrow without a sprout,
The prom queen consumed by doubt.

I am the hungry child,
The lost in the wild.

I am the sick, the infirmed,
The black, the burned.

I am the wet and wheezing,
The cold and sneezing.

I am the well worn shoe,
The never was new.

I am the caustic, acidic,
The albino iridic.

I am the pecked, the picked,
The squealing and nicked.

I am the broken shell,
The dry, empty well.

I am the dark, vacant lot,
The none and have not.

I am the sucking in sour,
The unending hour.

I am the incline too steep,
The bottomless deep.

I am the scorched, ashen earth,
The barren without birth.

I am the hard falling rain,
The bitter, scattering blame.

I am the tenant evicted,
The indicted, convicted.

I am the songless dance,
The ended romance.

I am the elderly in pain,
The stumbling and lame.

I am the cracked, weathered stone,
The hollow, brittle bone.

I am the soon to be some,
The warmly welcomed but numb.

I am your harvest of my bleeding heart,
The empty canvas, unpainted art.

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