I am Bone

Covered in hydroxyapatite

Colored in dead white

I feel hollow from inside

Look dead but I’m alive

When I break, I bleed

The blood raises a bridge

Weathered by osteoclasts

Plastered by osteoplasts

Tethered by the callus

Soon I become callous

As stresses fall, I realign

I’m your tibia, I’m your spine

Now I’ve grown thin and old

But my bearer, on to you I still hold…


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