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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Philosophy >> ID #1498658 |   |
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A vast wasteland lies between all the idle "buts" and "ifs," and "on the other hand" is on the fine sand that shifts. The suspension of belief makes you really sweat it out. The echoing of a dream can drown out the loudest shout. In the canyon or the hills or on the desert floor, "Let's just wait and see" leaves you dry, much more thirsty than before. Hesitation pricked with doubt is the cactus thorn that pains. Denial like the burning sun is desert's arid deadly claim. Copyright © November 23, 2008 by Karen M. Crump
© Copyright 2008 Karen (UN: armorbearer at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Karen has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |
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