deepundergroundpoetry.com
Longing
a passionate flow still remains within these veins;
carrying a stiff bone, that only a camp fire could bring;
tired of the woods; the vunerability of walking with a limp;
psychotherapeutic sessions sting one's brain for sain;
a ticking clock with agitated hands; instruments beating,
throbbing, twisting and turning through a painful frustration;
keeping one awake in the jungle night, until the light dims down again;
a resting pulse; just as psychologically tragic....
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