A shipwreck built up for years

by Andre Hoggard

We live, on the back of coffee,
and oil-stained napkins.
Writing down our curses
with broken pencils,
and lead.
Under a veil of sheets,
we tore at the seams,
like every stitch,
written across our arms.
What's up your sleeves?
Is it another nick,
caused by a rusty knife
and a half-known life?
Inside my voice,
is a shipwreck built up for years.
Sails strung up,
by the dust and spiders in the hull.
They crawled out of my scars,
and the cracks in the floors,
that I made while sweeping around,
the broken glass in the store.
But once in a while,
there is a music box,
off in the corner there.
That plays a simple melody.
An old threnody.
I've heard every day,
of all the time I waste away.
Being everywhere,
I knew I'd never stay.

A cat sings,
draped in black,
sitting on the rails
of the rescue boat.
Laughing and taunting, still singing:
"You're better off going down with the ship!"

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Writers Bio
Andre Hoggard is a spoken word poet from Indianapolis.

Inspirational ImageLeft behind by Luis Rockby Luis Rock

Pieces Inspired by this Image

'What happened Grandpa?'
by Harmony Hodges

'The Wreck'
by Andrew Patch

'A Sunken Ship'
by Sammy

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