Wondering through the dayís sun
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Wrestling with swords and tarantulas
Limbering with your mindís eye,
Does it fester for this length every time?
Watchful of the rays burning my Irish genes
Arguments scattered like petals on a bed,
Laced with ignorance of origin and creed
Swivelling on this pedestal for you,
Fighting temptations to flee,
To forgot my shadow whistling in the sunlight
Along with these bones I bury here today.
Forests pass through the daydreams of bears
Light bulbs pass through this meander
In suspense of rain or clouds.
Who works the gateway?
When whomever passes is dried up and terrified of moistness.
Does the day break? If the water is given to those with nothing but lakes.
Swivelling on your pedestal a million miles from home,
One step, two step, forgets the wake and positions sun glasses over time.
Never to forgive the burning on my back or weights dragged like masts upon a ship.
Walking, disappearing, fading over the edge,
Gravity fastening the vertebra concretely
Never to forge the gap again.