Healed

A bit of a pain in the arse Already at the brink The time clock is at rush hour But the heart still beats I look up at the sky Seeking for the signal of solutions The haze blur the hills The fog blurs my vision Broken bones Toiled muscles Wamble stomach Saddle sore Oh I was broken But i hold the time card And i go far down the road to recovery I tunnel through the forest of demise And the incision was healed. ©Ibratosyn'18