HarthPoetry

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Old Crusty Hole

I couldn’t help but enter

I was lured in

Tempted by the fate of promising jewels

Hidden aged diamonds

One never knows what you’ll discover in caves

Or dusty tombs

And nooks and crannies beneath ancient pyramids

So I put on my archaeologist hat

And took the adventure

Digging around

First you go in with your hands

Feeling around

Touching the walls

Blindly not know what you’re feeling

This rough texture

This sandpaper

The walls are flaking apart

Aged particles falling off

Bark like a tree disintegrating in your hands

Dust coughing, clouds parting

I feel around not knowing what I’m searching

Trying to figure out if this hole is big enough

Trying to figure out if its acceptable

Can such treasures be found here?

Could I really go hunting inside here?

How deep could I go in?

After my initial search

I figured it was time for the exploration

With my past behind me

My weapon in front of me

I’m ready to go forth

These walls wrapped around me

I feel so enclosed

Encompassed

Like an old aged home

A library never read

A closet never opened

A coffin coming alive

This hole becoming ripe

I see the scratch marks my fingers made

Grey cracked walls

Peeling and chipped

No leakage

Barely able to breathe

I can’t find any air inside this hole

I dig deeper and deeper for this treasure

I know I’ll find it here some place

And gain this grand pleasure

These walls crumble around me

So bridle they fall and fail

These old walls collapse

Into a pile of dust

Deep inside this old crusty hole

 

 

© 2011 David Greg Harth

11.03.19.15:49:48@130BklynNYC