Saturday, October 13, 2012

Sane
I saw a man wasting away on a cold autumn day
The drugs in his veins were highways to what was sane
Early snow flakes fell into a thin linen on an old street bed
They covered him
I walked and thought hopeless:
There were no drugs in these helpless veins,
But as all men, I had highways to what was sane

2 comments:

Human Paradox said...

Nice SC. Gritty and lonely.

Old Ollie said...

love the imagery, that old street bed...