Shaken
I was born brokeninto a shattered world.
Pulses race along white tile and green scrubs.
My eyes opened and I saw
others like me that were broken.
My hands,
reaching,
for anything I could have.
Fragile fingers
shaking in the still air.
It wasn't the best place to be,
but I could say that I was
shaken
in an unshaken world.
Where the people operate like robots
and the air is acidic.
And the ash
falls like snow.
By: Brandi Deacon
2010
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