I wince as I sit a reminder so clear

I wince as I sit, a reminder, so clear,

my body speaks volumes, with each creak and sneer.

An old injury flares, like a ghost of the past,

with each simple motion, my memory cast.

I feel every twist, each strain in my bones,

like a cracked mirror reflecting tired tones.

How bodies remind us of battles long fought,

as I sit in this silence, knowing all that I sought.