Small
These hands were once so small
Little fingers grip so light
Now they've grown to hold a ball
As large as a foot wide
Along the way the journey goes
From child to adult
A loss of innocence for what's known
Jilted jolt by jolt
Each day a piece dies away
Only to become
The crusted steel crescent thin shell
Hallowed. Frozen. Numb.
Posted by Richard Handley at 1:10 AM
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