The slow walk

Long black hair and chains from my belt,
a moonlit street is the path I walk on.
My heart beat's racing and I can taste fear in my sweat.
My ghost runs forward and my body stays in place.
I'm scared your scared we're all scared of this:

The moment when its time to make that choice;
the choice to take your path in your own hands.
I put one foot in front of the other,
and then repeat. I don't want to but I do.
I decide to stop myself from running away.

Instead I take the slow walk...





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xxalyxallurexx said...
Mar. 9, 2009 at 11:57 am
i really like this poem. i live in the same state as you im surprised how many poets live so close to me. your a good writter keep it up. im alyssa btw =]
 
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