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Poem

I stepped ahead,
Only to sink,
The ground was quicksand,
And up ahead marshy land,
The mire was viscid and fatal,
I was down till knees,
My hands rose up,
Looking for a grip,
I found only vacuum,
I was sinking for sure and prim,
My feet felt terribly soft,
As if they were planted aloft,
Inches grew on my legs,
I had seeped in till waist,
Now my legs were disconnected,
I felt the quagmire working faster,
It was enveloping like a body plaster,
I felt its weight on chest,
I began praying for the best,
My nostrils gave a shudder,
As foul gas geyser went up my nose,
As if climbing a ladder,
It was now neck,
My hand still raised for a heck,
I still cannot recall,
What the crap tasted like,
As it forced me in a bite,
It was about to blur my vision,
Suddenly somebody came,
And made the tragedy a game,
Soon I was pulled out,
And thanked them aloud,
Life still leaves me in similar states,
I still get somebody to heave my crate,
I wonder what might happen,
When we leave others flailing and flappin.

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