you lose a fight <br />then two, then three <br />tongues throw words like tiny stones <br />you drag home tattered bits of hope <br />and wrap your wounds with them <br /> <br />nights pass by <br />you lose another fight, lose <br />another friend, another night <br />the sky spits shooting stars <br />that never grant a wish <br /> <br />you go on <br />keep walking, burying bits of you <br />in basements and empty bottles <br />you hold a hand to your chest <br />make sure the heart’s still beating <br /> <br />then you win a fight <br />then two, then three <br />cement sets inside, no more soft <br />you wonder how anyone could be so weak <br />how cement could ever be liquid <br /> <br />how soon you forget <br />those stones have made <br />a mountain<br /><br />Ben Paynter<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-z-2/
