By Leo Smith @_leo.sun

I understand large hearts,
The courage of time
crowded wreck
Death chasing a storm,
knuckled an inch,
of faithful night
we will not desert you;
he follow’d days and would not give it up,
he saved the last,
women their
old-faced infants sick, and sharp-
All this I swallow, it becomes mine,
I am the man, I suffer’d, I was there.

disdain martyrs
burnt gazing on,
hounded by the fence,
cover’d with sweat,
that sting like bullets,
All these I feel or am.

I am wince bite
despair upon me, men,
clutch my gore dribs, the ooze of my skin,
I fall on the weeds