I stopped wanting to feel what I’ve once felt in the past

The gurgling in my loins has calmed at last

A steady stream now runs in its place

But a series of rocks continue to impede its pace


Hardening walls are building within

Tightening the space where the birds could sing

They flap their wings with intense fury

And peck on the walls, bleeding before a passive jury


Viscous fluids reach their solid form with age

Growing rougher and drier at that stage

A softness in the past they did pocess

A harshness in the present controls the mess




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