Cracked

They said he'd cracked,
like a jar in the wind,
ajar to within.

Grumbling gears in an attic of a mind,
cranked with the resiliency of an old steam engine,
chugging along.

Muddy cigar for the failures,
basement couch for the come-backs,
after being knocked off a hundred times,
the podium has never had this many scratches,
climbs back up every time,
but gallows are never very accommodating.