God never told me what to do.

And so I slither, without purpose,
across the face of this rock.
It hurts my stomach,
but I've got to keep moving.
How else will I discover my place?

I find subservience easy.
We all want to crawl inside
that to which we've grown accustomed,
no matter how it smells.

I won't make up my mind.
I'll let him break it,
and toss the thousand pieces to the wind.

02/28/2007

Posted on 03/01/2007
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