Glenn McCrary
Sour Scars
My bones take the shape of guitar strings
a genesis froths a sequence of irrevocable refrains
Like eradicated jars along the brink of some nameless beach
It matters not a damn to sulk in sour memories
When all they are adept of doing evolve into forthcoming tribulations
resulting in yearly scars as well as the razing ‘tis lifeless amour
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