Wednesday, June 20, 2012

I wander in the oppressive heat

in the striking down of an old world's concerns

and I know whether one wins and faces defeat

neither side of the fence will ever learn...

one only hears echoes

when one listens outside the box

I wander where the flow of our folly goes

at the Gates of Heaven picking at the locks...

Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

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