A Sticky Itch
Your crushing indifference
Bears down on me
In the grey gloom.
You think ‘I’m nothing special’,
Just an ordinary tune:
Easily forgotten but sometimes,
Annoyingly remembered.
I walk with many
In the struggle to breathe
Some life into the dream
Of extraordinary being.
And when I die,
As we all surely must.
I can take pride in that I was true
To my love and not my lust.
©ester spears
Empty Peak
Canon 5D w/600mm f4 IS
Click on image to make it emptier
Posted in: North Devon, Poetry
Posted on May 8, 2012
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