a blunt discarded rock abrashed my heels
biting as it fled down stream,
didn't quite took notice but the curiosity took the best of me
a lingering fire fueled by an ache unknown
words are weightless
detached from flesh they sting just the same
as a sharp shadow triggers anxiety to the prisioner
aboard a tower which only door was colapsed
rain and prayers for tight lip companionship
some do not get second chances and that my friend
is why I consider Life as deeply unfair.
there lays hanged,
atop the mast of my bedroom
certainly the token tribute of cannon fodder
captain of my imagination when I travel
a soft reminder talents are not equal
a birthday gift of greater meaning
a painting drawn by sketch and hand alone
a man amongst the masses sits closer to the centre
a bay of sorts swallos all ships alike ashore
a row on each giving hand and colour aplenty
evening sun for a lighthouse
safety a beacon
home within reach
a totem that connects me to a friend
whose message agitates the waters
throw some powder to the flame men
release some inner violence,
let us find out how many men need to be thrown off to keep a good one afloat
a shy road may curve
but it's limited in hold
the sea atones
sinks all waste
on the current we return to the beginning
not a bad afternoon for low tide.
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