Thursday, January 20, 2011

"Every Day"

Somewhat nowhere,
slack in a chain.
The machine that pulls,
shortens poverty.
Supposedly I walk,
I breath,
I retire,
from a greater cause.
Who's cause is it?
Mine?
Yours?
This death is slow,
convincing,
seductive.
Escaping poverty means?
I leave the earth behind.

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