Anger o motive
Locked in—-
a hundred miles an hour
down a cattle shoot path
Grab Hold—-
wearing razor wire armor
tearing hands reaching toward me
Night fall—-
the ashes of day fires
weigh down tired shoulders
carrying burdening thoughts
Locked in—-
a hundred miles an hour
down a cattle shoot path
Grab Hold—-
wearing razor wire armor
tearing hands reaching toward me
Night fall—-
the ashes of day fires
weigh down tired shoulders
carrying burdening thoughts
This entry was posted on September 13, 2009 by chris. It was filed under poetry, Tears and was tagged with anger, anxiety, depression, despair, Emotions, high anxiety, poem, short poem, stress.
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“the ashes of day fires… ”
very cool, dawg…. I think I felt like this a few times when trying to sleep… key word… “trying”…
September 16, 2009 at 7:46 pm
mmhmm
its hard to let go of a bad days burning stress.
September 17, 2009 at 8:56 pm