Dead Weight

Saw a kid in Kroger, arm a vibrant green,

a plaster sleeve, a sight I'd often seen.

But then the memory, the phantom pull,

of that dead weight, a constant, heavy lull.

It dragged you down, a concrete sheath,

right past the break, down underneath.

Your muscles strained, your balance off, a chore,

to just exist, and nothing more.

That bright green bandage, stark and starker,

made my own old bones feel darker.