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Cold metal.
We are two,  
People stare, glare,
“Poor soul in the chair,”
We are one and the same.
Cold Metal.

A ship is sunk without its sails,
It fails, as would a plane with no wings.
Crash and burn, the infirmed, that’s me,
Live with it.

Dawn, Chair, dusk, bed.
We’re dead.
We are separated in the freezing night,
But the cold morning brings us together.
Rising sun, I hate you.

We won’t be free, you
Grip, hold, tighten, squeeze me, until life is a memory.

I am tied to this mast, the sirens are calling.
I am tied to this mast, the sirens are screaming.
©2007-2009 ~Obsidian-Enigma
:iconobsidian-enigma:

Author's Comments

This was after I saw some person in a wheelchair while I was out shopping. Got me thinking, so I sat at my emoputer and started typing. Quite the depressing person, no?

Anyway, the part at the end is a reference to Homer's Oddesy (that I can't spell :P ) if you didn't know and it was tearing you up inside. ;)

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September 3, 2007
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