deepundergroundpoetry.com
Stomping Ground
...with old languages lost
old stomping grounds are
viewed with suspicion.
Everything freezes in a slur
at the edge of the stool
bleeding...bleeding
into pools of sweat
from blued collars.
Looking
into another vicious hole
into the reflection
of another vicious glass
showing no mercy
at the throat...and the soul.
Struggling
to find feet
to find balance
struggling for the next step
searching for...
something unattainable.
old stomping grounds are
viewed with suspicion.
Everything freezes in a slur
at the edge of the stool
bleeding...bleeding
into pools of sweat
from blued collars.
Looking
into another vicious hole
into the reflection
of another vicious glass
showing no mercy
at the throat...and the soul.
Struggling
to find feet
to find balance
struggling for the next step
searching for...
something unattainable.
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