A single shoe in the snow—
No footprints — long since erased.

| 2-liner Tues |

“A clown of the court”,
But of whose? My own.

The truths I speak,
Run deeper than bone.

Callously critiquing my pain and failings.
Why do I allow this? —

These points so impaling.

When I approach the scales,

And my heart is lighter than the feather,

It won’t be due, to the doing of good deeds,

But because I’m scarred and weathered.

— The Weight of a Heart —

Reciting experience through poetry.

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