Cobarde

a cloud up on my shoulder
as i huddle ever closer
to the fire let it smolder
sniff the little burning ember
extend my hand – remember
retracting burned and tender
and the little cloud just whimpered
sometimes things are simpler
than apologies and tempers
this wall they call defender
wont fall to rain or wind or
by sword and steel hindered
but those little burning embers
the cloud, i know, remembers
shutters, shakes and shivers
disperses, yellow-livered
my hands, you see, they quiver
finger quickly pulls the trigger
like my hand to a fire once bigger
i refuse to give surrender

Cobarde

Samuel Madruga

Marina, United States

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