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Chaotic Stroll

The autumnal wind embraced my sweater
Swinging its sleeves around
Slowly seeping through the hand knit threads
A whisper into my soul

The stony pavement, laid down before me
Was worn with cracks and slants
Fossils of boots and flip flops mimic my own
Upon this grueling path

The road used to be twice as wide
Set against the background
But because of decay or my mind’s dismay
It’s diminishing by the second

My feet play this game
Criss-crossing upon the ground
They weave in and out, my body the thread
The ground shakes once again

The sweater is multiplying each day
Like amoeba in moist climate
It serves for two purposes here
To catch me or else cause the fall

The path has shrunk down to the width of my shoe
Balancing is not my specialty
On good days I can get both down at the same time
I still stumble like a rodeo clown

I can’t see through my security blanket
I’ve gone too far, knit too much
I’ve blamed mishaps of confusion
Yet it saved me once again

But now the web entangles my limbs
The pathway is undetectable
I try to keep my balance and hold onto what I have
Until I fall, and fall, and fall




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Bryce D. said...
Apr. 16, 2009 at 2:12 am:
An eclectic variety of figurative language! Wonderful metaphors and similes and great, detailed, vivid descriptions.
 
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