Built To Last

Champions of fragile wonder
Bones too shaky, roll of thunder
Troubled soul cry no longer

"If only," came the quiet whisper
She flexes her shoulders to the mirror
Clavicle-straight across the quivered
Tired muscles from cramping brows
Matted hair with a shaky sway
Blurry images of the tomorrow days

Pelvis poking further than the tip of her nose
Kneecaps breaking from the weight of her prose
Tummy withering; a solomn refuged rose

Zelleweger's bones couldn't compare
To the barely living corpse that couldn't care
Before that long, Thanksgiving fast
A twitch to floor and a leg to the cast
She wasn't quite built to last.