In the
thick of it,
Like
the mud and the stick in it
You
can’t seem to get up, out
But
like a warrior, you fight
The
plaguing
doubt.
A nice
little gift,
Given
from the stars,
Packaged
neatly
With
wounds and scars.
Process,
a part of
The
race to rise, fly above
Gracious,
to the edge
Knowing
full well,
The
blossoming sedge.
Of the
Rib, We are cast
Back to
back, at half mast
Wanting
quickly, to turn around
Whiplash,
That
Crash and Burn Sound.
Only
then can you stand,
Eye to
Eye, Hand to hand
Cry for
another, with so much heart
One
foot in front the other,
You
begin a new start.
You get
up again,
Over
and Over
Next
time, clearer,
Full
Disclosure.
Get up
again.
Next
October.
