Wednesday, February 23, 2011


Grayest clouds hover above your every step.
Each stone crumbles under feet so dead,
Bones snapping, too brittle to escape,
Scabs are where blood once was,
The scars that paint the skin,
Milestones, marking where you’ve been,

Poetry swirls around your every thought,
Moving images to play a part,
Emphasizing things so trivial,
Repressing those that aren’t,
The silence which shields the ears,
Milestones, blocking all your sins

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