Trinet poem prompt

Mirrors reverse,
scars flip,
the attic in my mind locked
me out years ago, forcing me
to run,
to hide,
forever restless.

Welcomed it
at first,
but as luck would have it
the only part of me to
survive it
was meat
and lungs.

You don’t
miss home,
you’ve given the road a taste
and the anger inside now sleeps
waiting to
strike like
a match

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About Sean O'Gorman

Spoken Word poet from Ottawa. View all posts by Sean O'Gorman

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