AA (27.jan / )

What Is It

as i stand on the thresh hold of life and
i see it come to me like a dog with his master
i realise i am not far from the soft spoken of
the knock as it hits me with a slow mobility
that once deformed me into a puddle of
waste deep egomaniac.

controlling me anger slowing it down like
a snail crawling to a fast pace of love and
do i belong here do i live and stay here
for i am freeing my self of my shackles
and my blossoming flowers are seeding
so hard that time alone has not presence
with me in my soul searching like a rose
ready to flower


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