(117) My walking stick or walker or talker.....

My walking stick or walker or talker----(117)




My walking stick or walker or talker,
Or walkie-talkie brother, talks a longer,
When polio knocked away my leg
The substitution mocks at merciless by passers,
Segmenting many a secrets of stories,
The stick taps many a suppressed feelings of
The folklore and gruesome hospitalized days,
Carefully saved money was spent on severing
The right for left was left to right the wrong,
Oh! Those bitter days of amputation,
Could I weep but in private or curse my fate,
Those days of complex,mushroomed thoughts,
Isolating me from humanity,a fear
a feel of my loyal supportive
Spinal card gave way:
Yet my walker continues the journey,
braving the thistles and thornes,
marching on to avenues to new.