5.08.2009

Kindling

sitting in this chair
wooden arms and back is torn
broken down like my mind
broken down
snapping like kindling
for the fire
burn it up
burn it until it's gone...

sitting on this porch
peeling paint and splintered floor
creaks beneath my feet
cracking like kindling
in the fire
burn it up
burn it until it's gone...

will the vine bind my hands
will the shadow blind my eyes
will the water fill my ears
will the snake tie my feet
will the sand fill my mouth?

sometimes I wonder, I just wonder
why I can't just accept the world as it is
I have to change what I can,
but I won't stop
until I've changed everything
or I won't be a happy man.

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