The counting moments
bleed into the south.
I cling to the warmth
of the setting sky.

I curse under my breath
as I try to stand
with my head high.

Only to be be knocked
down a couple notches
in this broken world.

I trip as the chaos
makes me flutter by
as I spin on
a crooked axle.

So my head burns
with the sunlight
as I struggle with
each day.

I escape only to
find myself waking
up in this world
full of excuses
and exceptions.

02/22/2010

Posted on 02/22/2010
Copyright © 2025 Christopher Shin