Monday, 30 January 2017

I tiptoed across the rare quiet
not wanting to disturb
to wake the beast
to rustle a feather
to crunch a stick

Anything to avoid the constant motion
of running running running away

But in my mind a piano started playing
and once again
I surrender to its roars
its heavy growls
its moans

poor beast, so lonely
with a thorn in its paw

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