wearing these
brand new shoes
who's to say
that the world
hasn't been
trodden under
these ageing feet
again?
some days
too many words
have spilled over
these lips
that have quivered
in rage
as the mind was lit.
little by little
the light of the seed
shone through
the darkness
that could feed
the need
of the runaway
fiddler
wandering
through the streets.
the humming
continued
as the rain
poured
over the crude
drumming of the
subdued henchman
as he hung out
by the ghost's
right hand stooge
singing away
her sweet delta
blues.
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