Tuesday, February 9, 2010

At the end of the line

AT THE END OF THE LINE
THE CAR DRIVES OFF IN PAIN
I SEE ANOTHER PAIR OF EYES
STARING BACK AT ME AGAIN
BUT THE SKY ISN'T ENOUGH
AND NEITHER IS THE WIND
ROPE BURNS ON YOUR HANDS
AND SCARS ON YOUR FEET
BLADES ON YOUR SHOULDER'S
SOLDIER'S CRY, BUT NO SECRETS THEY KEEP
PENNIES ON YOUR EYES
CLIMBING UP TREE'S
A RAVEN; BEWILDERED
FLY OVER THE RIDGE
GLASS ISN'T ENOUGH
NOT WHAT IT CONTAINS
MY MOUTH IS DRY NOW, FOR I NEED A DRINK

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