A Broken Language
I open myself
Fully
I dig through
My past
Trying to write
The pain away
I just sit here
And cry
Are tears words
Once they’ve fallen
Upon the page
I open myself
Fully
I dig deep
I wade
Through what was forgotten
For reasons
Unspoken reasons
These tears fall
These words
Born of memories
Once blacked out
Put in a box
Under a box
Behind a box
Within a closet
Door’s locked
Hidden key
I open the door
I open myself
Fully
Trying to write
It all away
The page fills with tears
These words
All end up smeared
Forming a broken
Language
Very few
Care enough to
Understand
©2023 Michael Duckwall All rights reserved.
Michael E. Duckwall was born and raised in the Ohio Valley. Growing up in a small town that most people have never even heard of, Blocher, Indiana. He’s been writing poetry since late elementary school and hasn’t shared his work with anyone until the past couple of years. Now that he’s opened up, he has so much that he wants to contribute to the writing community. This is how Michael describes his poems: “I don’t write, I release. I’m not sure if I could hold any of this in, even if I wanted to. Poetry.. my therapy, my friend, my release.”
Brother Duck also has a new book available; Ramblings of a Recovering Poet:
