April 16, 2012

Soles and Souls

Splintered feet prevent eyes from new sights
Birds fly and soar, smiling as they go by.
Escaping, riding the wind
that sways with the long grass
My hair flutters
Bruised soles only allow thorns to grow
slowly creeping over a resting body, covering,
draining a living thing into a living corpse
If I die in this field leave me,
sleeping amid the wild flowers
dancing in the breeze
put a gravestone by my side,
engraved:
Bruised soles, breaking souls

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