My feet bleed
dark red
staining the
ground I tread
When will the road end
when can I stop
with every step
the rocks cut deeper
into my soles
my heart heavy
I walk on
leaving life in my wake
shoulders square
head high
my soul is still here
I am still alive.
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This entry was posted on December 6, 2011 at 12:48 am and is filed under arts, poetry/spoken word, social commentary . You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed
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The Price
My feet bleed
dark red
staining the
ground I tread
When will the road end
when can I stop
with every step
the rocks cut deeper
into my soles
my heart heavy
I walk on
leaving life in my wake
shoulders square
head high
my soul is still here
I am still alive.
Like this:
This entry was posted on December 6, 2011 at 12:48 am and is filed under arts, poetry/spoken word, social commentary . You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.