Root

Root

This cage that contains me,
Flaunts its resilience easily.
Breaks and rusted lesions,
Gory guilt of self treasons.
Inside I’m a broken frame,
Hurtling into harm’s shame.
Feet share with cracking knees,
Resemblance of hollow trees.
Ribcage merely ornamental,
Protecting what’s incidental.
Shoulders broad from a past,
Present’s waste intends to last.

Agony drags out stolid tears,
Cage’s structural shape clears.
A sort of freedom bears fruit,
Can’t rely on its rancid root.

EaS