Issue 08 · One poem

Whole

By Clark J. Madsen · From KB Poetry

Becoming one piece again after the shatter.

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The Whole
Walking on the edge,
the lonely path we trudge.
Highly stepping on stones,
spotted with corpses and bones.
Corpses of those who would not die,
if one more step would try.
Try to make it towards the goal,
the eternal life of their soul.
One corpse spotted in red,
droplets of doubt detail its head.
Another corpse, twisted and mangled,
as thoughtlessness had entangled.
Never die, never alive.
Run, run away form the whole,
the life that failure stole.
Slippery rocks form the blood,
and covered with reddish mud.
The ledge curves to an unseen sight,
my wobbly legs scrambling, my flight.
A twisted mind knows nothing matters,
as innocent droplets it scatters.
Plastering the impressionable kind,
the weak and destructive mind.
See yourself, that you may be.
See what is, and you may know.
Mens' mistakes, that made a history.
then you'll be above the whole.
THAD Q. WILSLOW
(SON)
May 25, 1993
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The Whole

“Made whole in the quiet after the storm.”

Whole

§Clark J. Madsen