Poetry of John Shaw

      Old Wood


      I feel
      Like a broken piece of wood
      I feel
      Like a man that only could
      Like a man that never can
      For I slip my slights of hand
      From one wrong direction to another
      I bungle and drop them
      Leaving me no cover to hide by
      Will there ever be one who understands
      The kind of man I am
      Or am I one of the legion lost
      To brave the sea so turby tossed
      And let my ignorance
      Destroy any would-be home
      So do I ponder all alone


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