Walk No More

August 27, 2017

It wasn’t the end of the road

But we slowed down

hurriedly thinking of ways
to stretch out the tar
A fear
of stepping into the wild grass
disguised itself as unwanted pauses
between our obscure words
But breaths when rushed
tend to falter
dropping their oxygen sacks
And we entered the realms of silence
having dispensed with sound barriers
Forced to look at each other
in the eye,
we realized it was an unborn dream
The grass over our moldy slabs
waved wildly to the passing wind
And we lay back to wait
for the road had ended
long before we began

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