junction

Locked out of my temporary world Temporarily Forcing me to write with the pen I’d been saving for way too long In the notebook I’d been saving for far too long (Yes I’m still old fashioned that way and I still prefer practicing my penmanship) I have re-noticed that everything is still an illusion Four walls may make up an architect’s dream But a door is the catalyst That transforms a house into a home Threshold for love Threshold for pain Dominance ----------- Obnoxious Submission ----------- Relentless Underdog ----------- Helpless Intuition ----------- Ferocious Forced off the road of my personal highway While renovations resume We live life We hate life We cheat death We somersault We backflip We doggypaddle We grow We gain pounds We lose weapons We sharpen sticks We survive tsunamis (We live life in and out of cocoons) The pleasure still remains The terror still glows green The hunger still taunts me The game still hunts me I am the blacksmith I am the locksmith I turn myself I am the key by Chauncey Dandridge

Sign up to vote on this title
UsefulNot useful