Friday, July 24, 2015

On my own dime

The stars know
the patterns glow
the roots must grow
after the rain

the seeds have been lain
upon the fields
that were barren plains
that once did yield

one at the gate
almost too late
was a pass handed over
though unplanned, it was fate

Yet still navigated
through the pendulous chill
and the compass was negated
by the inquisition still

when fighting for survival
is seen as but a crime
not entitled to revival
I'm on my own dime











No comments:

Post a Comment