Piker Press — Weekly Journal of Arts and Literature
April 27, 2026

Libra

When the scales are set on the table, how much weight does pain carry?

from my injured
perspective all the
words sound like
hell all the wounds
are fresh and red
like cherries I've lost
my objective sight the
overview I was so
proud of having
seeing all sides
of black and white
and somehow always
living in grey
but your weight has
tipped the scales
and I no longer
see clearly

More by Mel Trent → More poetry → Full issue →
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