I walk down the busy street of my life,
dodging speeding driver less vehicles
that appear to be bent on my demise;
if values and morals got me here
then what will release and return me
to that which I know all too well?
there is no shovel in my hole
to dig it deeper or to get me out, still,
I feel the rainy season is approaching;
dangling in front of me are the organs
of delight that have circumvented all...
but protect me as I walk off hours,
seeing first hand their futile natures.
1Apr14
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