Sunday, September 29, 2019

Commute

your words teeter 
Like an old scarecrow 
And I am the bird 
That blows you down 
But I never leave you 
I watch you ruin those crops
I hold you in my hands
And you rip out my guts 
I starve for you
The ground is dead
My heart goes unfed
I give and yet I lose
And you leave 
Like you still have a job to do. 

Written sept 25th 2019 


No comments:

Post a Comment