Run
Strike the asphalt
Every step a downward
Kick
Asphalt and rubber
Meeting violently in
A blow
Life, stolen and sweet
In quick, needy
Puffs
Hanging in the air
To vanish without
A trace
Don't you wish you
Could just go
Too?
Run
Strike the asphalt
Every step a downward
Kick
Asphalt and rubber
Meeting violently in
A blow
Life, stolen and sweet
In quick, needy
Puffs
Hanging in the air
To vanish without
A trace
Don't you wish you
Could just go
Too?
08-18-2010
deathbysociety commented on Run
02-23-2010
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
Title | Comments | Submitted |
---|---|---|
Title | Comments | Submitted |
Endings | 1 | 07/13/2011 |
Poets' Passion | 0 | 07/13/2011 |
Singularity | 2 | 06/21/2011 |
Run | 3 | 02/23/2010 |
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