deepundergroundpoetry.com
Corners
When digging a deep trench
For a most shallow wage
I think that maybe
At the end of the day
When hands are bubbled in blisters
Achingly reaching for pay
I may just get a bullet punching through my thick skull
Get pushed in the ditch of my own design
The fruits of my labor
To consume me
Into a godless grave
Tears should not flow
For the son that chose to live as a slave
For a most shallow wage
I think that maybe
At the end of the day
When hands are bubbled in blisters
Achingly reaching for pay
I may just get a bullet punching through my thick skull
Get pushed in the ditch of my own design
The fruits of my labor
To consume me
Into a godless grave
Tears should not flow
For the son that chose to live as a slave
Published 26th Jul 2011
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Anonymous
26th Jul 2011 4:00am
<< post removed >>
26th Jul 2011 9:45am
Seems that you are taking you're own advice and
evolving nicely, i see.
I like the layout.
The lack of white in-between the lines
does not give me time
to take in the lines individually
but makes it hit a little harder.
I like it. A fine write
evolving nicely, i see.
I like the layout.
The lack of white in-between the lines
does not give me time
to take in the lines individually
but makes it hit a little harder.
I like it. A fine write
