Clean Feet Poem by Stephanie Souter

(When you see a capital in the poem then that is a start of a new line. just know that when you are reading it)



Why does the one with clean feet, stand in mud?
Why does the one that stands on cold soil think to make the mind boil with icy thoughts...
Should they be the ones to stand, not lots other?
Finding the mark of a question at end.
To take years from anouther, not a longer stand.
Maybe from itself, to a everlasting delay.
When one falls is it truely a sit somewear?
One stats a new question at end.
Is there comfort on the unknown beneath? Are you welcomed?
The anser is there is no anser.
One that has a life still in progress cannot know.
Knowing is when knowing stops breathing


How can one know that there will not be a kink in the trail.
Are there rocks in your seat when one dosent fallow a rule of a non existant person?
Liveing people are subjected to these meany questions but when it comes down to it the only way to find out is to wait the enevedble wait......
Sleep when the life have given you the operotunaty to sleep.....

Live