Tools
Material of time
Split, fractured, torn
Dulled by utility
Usefulness shorn
Tools such as these
I do not own
Never needed repair
Over despair I’ve flown
Edges are sharp
Working surface solid
Each with no prints
Heart beats so stolid
In rear of that drawer
A remembered token
Hidden from thought
Not to be awoken
Deeds that began
A melting of steel
Hot heart cooling
A withering ordeal
Difficult task after
The melding of stone
Mountain’s deep heart
Cold chiseled not grown
To the store I walked
Purchased a quality set
Shiny objects in my belt
On credit with much debt
EaS
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