Found Poetry
The clock has struck twelve
You know it deep down
Deep down in your soul
Because I am your soul
There is no escape
No matter what
You are small
You are weak
You are a hollow shell
A rusty trap
I burn you
You try to quell me
But I smolder
I flare, bright, hot, and beautiful
With all your wine
With all your vows
and the weight of age
You cannot stop me
You always run
You try to drown me out
Still you try
Still you are weak
Copyright © Ryan Kohlmeyer | Year Posted 2015
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