THE TIRES OF A MAN



The tires of a man
Drawn out on the map of destitute
Snakes out into the rivers of trouble
The dunes of challenges cling to him
The drowned clasp the hands to their bosom
Failed they are to who they are

Flesh against flesh
Bones jar out
Scars bleed out
Fate blur
Wounds infected


Troubles into solutions
Worse to worst
Paths into sinking sands

Born into this world with a curse to a man’s head; to draw the yoke before food is on the table, bears a heavy despondent on what man has become. Blood baths upon the other; treaties signed, broken and mended; laws passed; all this to bring a kind of check on who man is to be.
I say this day that man is who he decides to be: a caveman, a civilized person, a loner or a sociable one.

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