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Coal Eye

They said I was unwanted
a product of youth's lust
not a plan
my fractured childhood oozed
blood from the torn seams
and shattered dreams
before I knew the word
I slumped silently in
corners of barren
icy rooms my breath
billowing London fog,
softly to avoid notice
I was the moth to the glow
of books, of words
a recluse in a family
of odd wordless terror
and frigid laughs where
coal eyes mined fear
I hid behind the pages
of lives never seen
in my tiny cosmos
I drifted, gliding away
on a drop of water
off the hood of a car
and never looked back


  • Coal Eye

About the creator

Nelson Linscott

Maine born and raised, a product of the 1960's, liberal thinker, writer, photographer, poet, book collector, fountain pen enthusiast, amateur historian, reader, Beat Generation Follower, cancer...