Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Entrenched
The lines are drawn
my side, your side
We walk our lines
back and forth, forth and back
A rut appears, two in fact
one on my side, one on yours
Our lines are marched
my side, your side
We never waver
never look at the other, never step out of our rut
So
Rut becomes trench
knee then thigh, waist then chest deep
We march on
we never waver, never look nor climb out
Fear of what might happen
bars us from communication
Quiet separation is safe
separation from argument is feared
We march on
trench deeper that we are tall
We march on still
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