Remembering Days of Folly

I am grateful for fights well fought


my withered hands can only grip so tightly
my crushed shoulders can only bear so much
my calloused feet can only walk so far

and one day, my welted hand will lose its touch

i remember the days
when I had no knowledge

dumb, ignorant and lost
misinformed and misled

at the bottom of a pit
dying a deadly death

crying, weeping
bleeding out and gasping for air

poisoned by the toxic mist of folly
after flirting with disaster

during my courtship

with bondage

then I awakened
and there was light