The Signature

A familiar scrawl

etched across my face

in public view -

the mark of failure.

The creased, beaten brow,

over-slept face,

wincing eyes

and downturned mouth.

The pains of self-loathing

and doubt.

The shyness of centuries,

the thoughts of doom,

the explosions of ideas -

hollowed out in silent rooms.

I am wearing it now -

even when my life screams no.

My chagrin signature

of boyhood woe.

Reviews

[C.R.Turner]

Ha! I don't even remember writing this!