Stained Jar

That stained jar at the sill of my mind
has once again been shaken blind
Murky memories reined by pain
billowing out to the dirty old pane

The ache, the despair, the broken dreams
tumble about in curdling screams
The rage, the love and the whimpering sobs
float around the stale remains

I sit beside my storming jar
staring into this sepia bizarre
Waiting for the rubble to settle
I slip away little by little

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