This poem was originally published on 24 June 2016.
I cut my lip on a quip, And bled my true colours, For my teeth had braces, And my tongue had laces, So they tripped over one another. I stung my eye with a cry, And wiped my heart on my sleeve, For my pupil was captured, And my lens was fractured, So they scuffled as a result of their peeve. I dammed my nose with a blow, And let my guard down, For my cilia were shaken, And my nerves were brazen, So the cold wind swung me out. I mute my ear with a cheer, And was deafened with alarm, For my drum was hammered, And my canals were shattered, So they flooded away from any harm. I tensed when it commenced, Grasping to hold my own, For the body’s a back-stabber, Yet honest - straight like a ladder, So it moves with a mind of its own.