A Dying Star Shines Brighter by jjfreight, literature
Literature
A Dying Star Shines Brighter
Well old boy, we made it this far for sure,
Threw our crutches to the floor,
Little less ebb, Little more lost,
Head-down, head-first,
Brain sink, brain bumble,
Stammering, stumbled on through.
But, damn it, old boy, we made it this far.
Forward, I say.
And, forward, say that thing in your head.
That thing that screams, that thing that Screams.
Forward, say screams!
But in a closet is a box
That encloses a track
With treadmill lanes,
And blows a wind to debase the springs on your shoes,
Your brand new shoes, brand new eagerly springy shoes
Blows the wind, brags in bluster.
To knock your socks off,
To rock it like a hurrican