Song of The Graceless Cadaver

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Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt

Goya

Goya

Her face is a mask

painted on

with a shaking hand

her heart pumps wine, not blood

the years

have not been kind

to her.

Bitter and mean

youth has left her

a graceless cadaver.

 

She coughs and she hacks

a cigarette in her hand

she’s  used up and spent

twisted and bent

waiting for life

to knock on her door

again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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