the year of lyrics: a poetry project

my search for inner-peace, one poem at a time

Day 192 – Incapable

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the rain splatters on the windshield
but I am not shielded
from the pain nor the hurt that life has surely wielded
from dangerous places
and jealous hands
I am sore from the heartache crafted by your plans
though I’m sorry, quite honestly, sorry
the trail is carved in this way
I’m finished with it entirely, for I cannot mold the clay

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