Avoid The Routine of Monday


Make it different.

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Down Stream

  
The power is overwhelming to my senses.

The sound it makes as it crashes into or crushes everything in it’s path reverberates inside of me.

To hitch a ride or to fight, the decision isn’t as simple as it appears.

For years I would have run away. 

Afraid of the cold,

Unsure of the pressure,

Captivated by the other shore.

My lungs quiver in anticipation. My souls knows there’s no other option.

First a tie,

Then my legs,

The current embraces me to the next destination.

Poem 626 (2)

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Fallen over, Broken at the base but not surrendered– proud even when all else seems lost. Clinging to what vanity remains, there is something to be said for it– but what?

Everything– follow me into the forest. I can’t promise you it will lead anywhere but exactly where you’re meant to be.

Scars add character.

In the end be collapsed in all the glory of the adventure.