What is there about a broken word?
it wonders around as if never heard
until it falls on the ground
and waits to breath its last
it looks at the world cock-eyed, on its side
and lets its thoughts wonder
no freer now than a moment before
but unleashed in the moments before it dies.
I put my hand on his chest and wait with him
never knowing anything but "soon"
and it's worse alone.
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