Quicksand Poem by David Wilson


No man CAN STAND ALONE in the QUICKSAND of flesh and BONE, the vacuum of SPACE and TIME, the relentless PACE of the RHYME, yet he can still fully APPRECIATE the feeling (so SUBLIME) , and he begins to RETALIATE he begins to SCREAM and suddenly the nightmare becomes a DREAM
He can see his whole life flash BEFORE him THOSE who CHOSE to hate or ADORE him, He who was kind to MANY and cruel to FEW, he who wished for an EMMY, not for him, but for YOU, he put his life on the line to save a child he had never seen nor heard ABOUT, and as he stands alone he begins to SHOUT, why hath God put this death upon ME, why hath he stolen my ABILITY to be FREE, why doth he keep ME here, why can i not FLEE, and yet the man prays, GOD PLEASE SOME ONE HELP ME, and then it strikes him, I help so many, yet refuse to help myself, its to open EYES and REALIZE that theres a time to release the issues of others so you can ASSIST oneself to BLISS so you dont end in a room with a razor and slit WRISTS spending every day so PISSED at the world. you have to release the 'duty' you placed upon yourself to save yourself and become one with PEACE, to find your treasure, your golden FLEECE

Malini Kadir 24 September 2007

yes it just sucks one to the vortex

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Ronald Stroman 23 September 2007

once i was inside your poem, i found it differcult to get out. take care.

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