In the landmine of life

In the landmine of life.

I knew him by his crouching frame
Those broad shoulders once erect
Now bowed in reverence
To life’s laboured game.

His lungs now black as anthracite
Wheezing coughing with all his might
Knuckles gnarled – arthritic pain
Years of darkness – show no gain.

From a minor he did dwell
In that corridor of hell
Now it’s clear for all to see
The embers of life’s tragedy.

Jpoet7 ( #doolan317 )
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