Metal against metal.
Pulsing music like the slow beat of a heart.
Black straps weighing down shoulders.
Stand aside,
make way.
Behind the yellow line.
An orange man marks surrender.
All clear whistle blows,
and galloping wind takes charge.
Wisps of smoke trance about anxious faces,
kissing early greetings.
Amid the full silence,
a cough excuses itself.
Hunch backed men and women guard
weightless bags empty for
one or two bottles.
YOU ARE READING
Sensation
PoetryIt's hard to feel in control sometimes- I get it. There is no remote for life and that's what makes each of us unique. Sometimes it's easier to look down helplessly at life like an endless downward spiral. Other times, we just need to see it for wha...
