A winding road
with potholes and chips, the yellow-black snake drumming swiftly through trees, ratta snap hiss ratta snap hiss. Unsteady beats hurl us into the ditch, face to the ground spitting blood from our mouths, but always we stand always we stand. Today this road brings us places new, First loves, old fractures And oasis's few, but where does it end where does it end? And who do we go from here?
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Death is but a time to fine'ly rest your head, and close your eyes. Now sleep. Time knows no boundaries. It turns the world and halts life, And it heals no wounds. At the eve of night the sky swirls like there is love swimming in the sea. ©MTL 2016 Childhood
is a rope, swinging high 'bove the ground, flicking, and whipping, like a tail, in the wind. I am hanging on by the thinnest of threads, begging and pleading for the rope to come down, But it jerks and it twirls til my fingers do slip, and I fall, fall to the ground. |