The Space in My Fist - LetterPile - Writing and Literature
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The Space in My Fist

i’m not a coal miner
breathing bad air
barely making a buck
going back down there

it must be so hot
surrounded by the earth
the fires from within
the light of man’s worth

i want to find my place
not first world problems
i’m so ashamed of them
it’s just leaves of autumn

how can i be so cold
living inside my shelter
my furnace shadows
me with dark weather

life should be easy
our souls full of love
we know what we want
what am I made of?

but now you need my prayer
for you i will ask for strength
and how life was meant to be
love and grace of equal length

and if you need me now
there is a space that exists
but it was you who found it
inside my clinched fists

it is what i need to feel
what can it be about
a beautiful smile from you
for so long i lived without

Comments

Mark Lecuona (author) from Austin, Texas on September 25, 2018:

@Louise - thank you for reading it! I always very happy for a nice comment such as yours!

Louise Powles from Norfolk, England on September 25, 2018:

Thankyou for sharing this lovely poem. I enjoyed reading it.