They say,
You stumble,
Then you fall,
Like castles in sand
Washed off shore.
They fit in perfection,
To crumble away.
Making jibes,
Watching you crawl,
Picking up those grains scattered,
Truly then you see,
A poet’s world in your eyes.
You search within,
Seek beyond,
Where you see excellence,
I, fake virtue.
Robes of glory,
Chains of insolence.
The top too high,
The bottom too small.
You
Stand high, look down at the world,
Strange is the sight,
Of large blocks below,
You stoop to,
Remember,
Those fools who built them.
The sight of heaven and the sounds of hell
Waiting a long while in those shadows
For you to jog past,
And meander around later.
You search within,
Seek beyond,
A break, a fall,
Infinite darkness.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
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