Tuesday, 30 November 2010

One Week Of Childhood

Frozen folds are unyielding, still pretty young and new.
I'm only ten feet away from tomorrow's daybreak,
The sun will cake my skin with wrinkles and masses.
Cram one memory or two into a tomato soup can,
It's that time of year for church and skipping ropes;
Another chance that hopes.

The untimley flakes will just be forgotton again, then
Unveild fom the back of time, hidden in a carpet bag
In the boot. Like uneventful caves of fame and praise
Will the innocence pass me so unwilling by tonight?
Just slipping out for a drink and fall silently out of
Reach of the wrong or right.

I can imagine the stumble, casual out of chaotic mind.
It's time, to see the awaited blind. Should the bark
Crack and the voice dissintergrate, it would follow me
Down the open road. So when the moment comes to
Pass, at last, I'll die quietly and wallow alone. Lift the bag
Off my head and be gone.

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