[-Briers Way-]

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Through my black eye
and my broken jaw,
I can’t gaze at you
nor smile at all.

Help me my friend,
please don’t salt my wounds.
Just take me home,
back to my old room.

I am a young man,
though my face has aged
and I can feel my mind,
its wasting away.

The world keeps falling,
like the rain into the gutter
of a street named
Briers Way.

My legs get heavy
as my beard gets long,
but it would take the world
just to shave it off.

My eyes are bruised
and going blind,
but I can still run my fingers
up your graceful spine.

These broken fingers
can no longer play,
so I cracked my skull open
to find the words to say:

“Will you take a walk
with me, towards my home
down the street called
Briers Way?”





© 2005 Andrew Zonneveld