I never wanted this pale brittle frame,
invasive cancerous, to all body parts
marrow of my bones,
the calcified canker sore,
the sloth of my body mass;
or opted for a pair of boots,
to grow by wear and tear
and get repaired by rubber caps;
the daily tussle kicking roads
labelled by tar,
the dark sticky purulent pus
that commute my lesser journey, near;
weaker ever weaker
I just wanted
a speck of dust,
an ounce of water,
and a little air to breath
O, my Lord!
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