Falter

The pane is scratched and slightly cracked,

Marring my view of the world beyond.

The abrasions and maculae

Give an abused, disheartened

Tint to all I survey.

I trace my fingernail along a splinter

In the window and am saddened

To know it can never be removed.

Forgotten, maybe,

But never repaired.

Author's Note

Discontent.

Reviews

[FJ Davis]

We do not easily resign ourselves to imperfection.
An interesting question to ponder would be: Why?
One thing is certain, the author has very high standards in the stringing of his words.
Well-crafted and meaningful work, Ben.