There is nothing
lurking in the shadows
I am sure
but sometimes
my imagination gets
the best of me
creek sound
from underneath my foot
pleaded pounds of base
tearing something out of me
hot moist air froze me
and sweat trickled down the lining
of my back, my protection
the wall on my back
spiderweb filled
dusted with rust
the scent of moist dead air
that my nostril must heir
picking panic from my fear
sending my soul dashing
up the stairs
I must, I must, I must
do this things
that make boys man
I must, I must, I must
not be frighten
I must
put away the imagination of fear
and lock down the stare
upon my duties to becoming a man
dusted with rust
the scent of moist dead air
that my nostril must heir
picking panic from my fear
sending my soul dashing
up the stairs
I must, I must, I must
do this things
that make boys man
I must, I must, I must
not be frighten
I must
put away the imagination of fear
and lock down the stare
upon my duties to becoming a man
No comments:
Post a Comment
Where ever you go, leave something showing that you were once there!
Rate it, share it, and comment anonymously or with your name.