Wednesday, June 20, 2012

old shovels

Running from evil and fleeing fast.
Upright, insight, inside the past.
Trying to keep my head above the rubble.
Crying as I use this old shovel.
Digging, digging, digging.
Once dead- now living.

2 comments:

  1. Keep living. I like your poem.

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  2. Your journey is an inspiration. Thank you for being so selfless to share it with the rest of us.

    ReplyDelete