“How Now? Is He Dead?”
Not yet.
NOT YET.
Crawling on stumps of fingers,
Faceplanting forwards.
Surpassing others,
We grew up on.
Bard,
I’ve more scars than you.
This raggedy carcass,
Pulling me forwards towards tomorrow.
NOT YET.
Not yet.
Fighting with calloused hands,
Scrapping for sustenance.
Play Witness,
Dead Man.
