Running After Legs Poem by Alexander Keli Mutua

That seem never to touch the hind the bind upon a fall that a hit and run liken. The rhythm of mock and knock that advance the rare tears within the days. Dusting own conscience with and ingrain of reason the utter and mutter that aloud within the hide. The slow down and calm of the shouts and laugh upon the run that attach the fright of the wild. Playing some wild cards with intrigue that ceased the sight of the height. Where a silent of emotions and thoughts infiltrate the words that alarm the depth of soul. Which journeys alike the dust that the soil toil upon the eyes and skin.