Calloused

Everyday, they build.

My fingertips,
  when I rub them,
    sound like crickets.
  
Feet can walk across blacktop,
  in the summer,
    in Phoenix.

What has became to my body,
  is another story.

My mind,
  my soul.

The nerves stop regenerating,
  in the body.

In my soul,
  I refuse.

I will not let it happen.

I will not let the past cause the future to dim.

It would be so easy,
  let the scars create the barrier.

So easy, to lose touch.

I refuse.

My mind,
  my soul,

I will not become calloused.  

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Good thoughts in this poem. Hard not to become calloused in a life. Hard work and decision leave us colder and harder. I like the way you led the reader into a journey that is hard to stop. I like the ending. Good to hold on to softness and tenderness. Thank you for sharing the excellent poem.
Coyote

[DrD]

The subtle references to reach a final declaration makes this work special and I enjoyed it immensely.

[Jon Roggie]

Another bit of experimentation. As always, I respect and appreciate your comments Thank you, sir.

[KAOlmsted]

"I will not let the past cause the future to dim.
It would be so easy,
let the scars create the barrier."
--really powerful observation, and smartly addressed...often times we don't allow ourselves the luxury of envisioning the future we desire for fear our past experiences will negate the dream...I like that you are essentially saying "screw that"...you are saying, no matter what you endured in the past, it will not impede your future. Really good write.

-kimmer

[Jon Roggie]

Thank you, kimmer. I am trying to continue growing. Into what remains to be seen. Now, it is just growing some very strong roots.

[Sami Khalil]

In my soul,
I refuse.
A nice write.

[Jon Roggie]

Thanks! I just feel all of us have a choice on what we become. It is just being able to remember that fact.

[Sami Khalil]

I agree. You are welcome.