I wish I could walk a mile on my twisted wasted legs,
but they are on a cratered path
somewhere else instead.
I wish I could speak a truth with my mangled severed tongue,
but it festers in a blood soaked pit
where silence was begun.
I wish I could show you vision through my blinded plucked out eyes,
but they were stamped on with derision
when I pleaded with them, why?
I wish I could take your hand with my shattered broken claw,
but they shackled it and hacked it off
when I knocked upon their door.
I wish I could make you feel with my broken bleeding heart,
the one that when they stopped it
a million more did start.
© Wolfgar 2019