By the Wayside

Don’t knock or call  I wont answer the phone or open the door. Breathing in the sour taste of the candles burning. Flirting with gravity I am not coming down. Just a ghost still searching where to put my flag in the ground.  All things that I thought were possible; start from cashing hours in for numbers, but then numbers become days.  Am I running away from everything I have been running towards? The shadows haunt me staying close behind where ever I go; so I keep the lights turned down low. I am still alive as far as I know, but there is a strong black burning in the back of my throat. Where the words turn to asphalt and crash to the ground. I know there is something more were each created for; I just have long ways to go, and a journey still left to grow.

This entry was published on September 27, 2012 at 4:30 am. It’s filed under Poems and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.


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