A Stick In the Mud
A Stick In The Mud
the ground was wet on that hot day
beautiful ashes torn in the mockery of its sphere
yet I stand alone here waiting
waiting for a next move to be made
my couch is my friend
a dismal purpose to construct my laziness
onto a distant land I seek yet alone on my two feet
I washed the residue off my face
this time I see a mere reflection of what's good inside
days of endless worry in such a reflective way
humble myself to bow the knee to pray
words can express the love that one has inside
Some search as if nomadic herdsmen in sight
others ponder the reluctance to reach heaven's door
still inside there are screams falling apart at the seams
we sweep the rubbish under the rug
falling head long into the vile extreme
we slowly come unglued as fools learn to swim
yet I'm stuck in the mud with the hope to endure
the steam of hot lava erupting from within
one can become carnal if their head is not on straight
tossing and turning through the madness of the day
release the fire from within to find the hidden desire with out
a cause to reflect in its sparkling array of brilliance intact
Copyright © Mario Vitale | Year Posted 2017
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