Oh how I hate the muck

Deep down I am stuck

Ooze and slime

Not sublime

Between my toes

On my nose

Playing in sand

Groping for solid land

Easing forward one two three

Uncertain, now on bent knee

I rise above it all

A task not small

I smile a smile of pure glee

Children laughing with me

Burying me yet again

Nonchalance I feign

I’d never replace a single thing

For you I’d do most anything




Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Next Post


Wed Aug 23 , 2017
Visceral   Learning from an early age, Be alert always guage That became a constant ritual, Visceral, intuitive and habitual What is said is not […]
%d bloggers like this: