Guard
Some time ago
I gave up on being saved.
Time again I saw, one by one,
fly away, balloons
broken from a bunch.
Now I know that, even though
I can save others--
all those hours in the sun
splashing blue water lulling me--
I cannot do it for myself.
Funny to think that a man
is just a thing so delicate,
that a blade, a single blade,
can ravage the flesh and
let the soul fly,
like a balloon released
on an afternoon, in the sun,
the splashing blue sky.
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