METAL FATIGUE
.
Of the five senses, touch was the first to go
When the rot set in.
Necrotic from disinterest; disused and numb,
A disconnected leper, this colony of one.
Then sound; your message left unheard.
Just the tap tap tap of my manic mind.
No pause....just repeat; the eternal rewind.
Sleep starved, all words stuck frozen in time.
For leading me into temptation;
(forgive my glutinous sins),
Taste then smell withered and died.
Staunch as a deacon, control finally mine.
The harvest ignored, decayed on the vine.
Only sight eludes my metal fatigue.
The mirror much stronger it haunts--oh!--it taunts.
Its warped fun-house image now all that I see.
The bully I made....this cruel double of me.
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