Description: For Day 16 of NaPoWriMo. Technically written yesterday, just late in posting!
I was sitting in the hospital as my uncle was having surgery when I wrote this.
You think you’re made of marble
Solid, prowling beasts
But take a knife to stomach
You’re just compressed, vacuum sealed
In sun you run without worry
But in dark the rot sets in
You thought you’re made of marble
But you’re a miracle, a temple