Sunday, February 26, 2006

Hurried feet

I run away from him everyday
As he sips on his morning tea
His eyes trace my flight for awhile
But his feet don't care

I run away from him everyday
With him by my side
He raises his brow sometimes
Sometimes he just smiles

I run away from him everyday
Dragging my tired feet along
Waiting for the fateful day
The day whose shadows I see

I run away from him everyday
But today he stops me
"Could you lead me to the door
Please be kind, to this blind"


Handful Of Hell said...


I wonder if "The Blind" could be interpreted metaphysically as our own conscience? And his request be the call of our conscience to listen to him/it?

the Monk said...

that is quite a poem...

A Hairy Snail said...

whoa. *all quacks stopped midway*

s! said...

the picture is quite deceptive as to what follows.. hmmm.

alice said...


wendigo said...

nice poem; like your simple and strong imagery always

thetis said...

thank you

Eastmancolour said...

tell me
i'm all twisted and confused.
these other folk here is brilliant though :(

Anonymous said...

Enjoyed a lot! Wholesale nexium Bulk email organizer industry today affiliate earn sales program time sauna Business government loan small start Home security and internet phone msi video capture card los angeles registrar recordercounty clerk cheap wellbutrin xl debt management affiliate programs pay per saleindex shtml affiliate programs pay per click schools culinary Translucent waterbeds money affiliate programs search Paris hilton film porno pilates method new york

Anonymous said...

Very cool design! Useful information. Go on! Connecticut home based business opportunities Passport 4600 manual radar detector Buy generic wellbutrin sr

Anonymous said...

Wonderful and informative web site. I used information from that site its great. Dragon ball gay pics small business web site design Lamictal uses Infiniti q45 1991 fuel injector problem coffee maker