“First Steps” by Scott Sparks

Crumpled like tin in a backyard trash bin
For the mistakes I’ve made, you’d think this a fitting end
Now I’m all a part of what tends to be discarded
Never a second thought of, nor is care ever allotted
But I think I’m in the wrong section as I study my image
Looking back, my transgressions shouldn’t signify insignificance
So to say that I’m finished would be a monumental disservice
When to pick oneself up leads to serving a higher purpose
Let my first steps be toward repairing my inner form
Which means keeping hold of my calm and spreading it beyond
Making reparations to reconcile my repudiations
Through the looking glass may my streaks at last
Be a sign of the times meant to remind
Of what it took to climb out of degradation


—Scott Sparks

About richardfyates

Compulsive creator of the bizarre and absurd. (Artist, writer, poet, provocateur...)
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