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Garment Boy Tied with cords of cotton fiber, hands constrained and tethered tight, to the coat rack in the closet hangs the child in dimming light. Toes just touching on the hardwood; arms outstretched toward heaven's gates. Wracked at night to cure his evil; body weight excruciates. Cries for mercy die neglected; pleas for pity pass, ignored. Like the other clothes left hanging, he's a garment neatly stored. Sweat and tears become his buttons; numbing pain becomes his sleeve. Thirst and hunger are his pockets; fear of dying is his weave. So the garment boy left hanging, (minus mind to comprehend), `fesses all his sins and errors; groaning for the horror's end. |
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