Carapace By aldo kraas, www.PoetryPoem.com/poet11586 Unlock all Features - Upgrade to Poetry Prime
I used to wonder why harm came my way.
All those puncturing and stabbing things
That cut through my strength and resolve
Like rampant blades over innocent skin.
I often asked why these things must slay me
Opening wounds about me, spilling my life,
For what is the purpose of enduring pain?
Many a time my heart whimpered, defiant
In complaint it would warn I couldn't take it.
I knew it would all surely end in my collapse.
Yet, as the wounds healed, they formed scars
Only to be cut open again, and be healed again.
Layers and layers deep I'm buried now in scars.
A carapace so thick and painstakingly formed:
The work of a lifetime and trophy I have for show
So heavy it's hard to move and go through doors.
Yet this mass of wounds fortify my flesh so
Making it tougher and tougher with every blow.
A shell so sturdy now, I couldn't possibly fall.
When I pass on, I will go standing straight up.
For my carapace will sustain me through death
And even hold me together through what's beyond.
I now know what the wounds and thick skin are for.
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