Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2020
such high miles from his son
with that head of sawed off strawberry blonde

still, you'll dance in empty places
that sarabande til you sweat

nothing between you and the better air
but those feet will have to move
Psalm 40:2
"And he heard my prayers, and brought me out of the pit of misery and the mire of dregs. And he set my feet upon a rock, and directed my steps."
touka
Written by
touka  23/F/Wilmington, NC
(23/F/Wilmington, NC)   
121
     mister truth, r, laura and A Slow Heyoka
Please log in to view and add comments on poems