Stretched
The stretching is leaving me
feeling all tight-
and shaking and breaking
and dulling my sight.
The forcing is blunting me-
taking my edge-
and crushing and rushing
me onto the ledge.
The pushing is chilling me-
stealing my style-
and mangling and strangling
and killing my smile.
The pointless is stilling me-
cooling my fire-
and leaving me heaving-
about to expire.
Joy Weare.
2nd June, 2007.
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