smoke plumes from my core,
morphing in the daytime gray
that is synonymous with
unpleasant thought and being.
burning from the center out,
laying down, letting the fire
rage from the dark to the light,
the soul to the physical world.
a rotten stench flies from me
which alerts those around
to the dying person
that lays in front of them
still, with nostrils flared,
they stop, say “Hi”,
follow with a smile and a wave,
continue trotting along.
Apr 18, 2011
Apr 18, 2011 at 6:56 PM UTC
smoke plumes from my core,
morphing in the daytime gray
that is synonymous with
unpleasant thought and being.
burning from the center out,
laying down, letting the fire
rage from the dark to the light,
the soul to the physical world.
a rotten stench flies from me
which alerts those around
to the dying person
that lays in front of them
still, with nostrils flared,
they stop, say “Hi”,
follow with a smile and a wave,
continue trotting along.
