HarthPoetry

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The Final Fall

I fell down

The space is narrowing down on me

I have nothing left to do

No more options, no ways out

I can’t get out of this place

The walls are closing in

I tumble, I fade

 

Morning rises

Body is dead

I’m free in the plains

My mother is in happiness,

She swallows me whole,

Puts her arms around me,

The roots never let me go.

This is my final resting place.

 

© 2008 David Greg Harth

08.05.27.24:58:00@296NYC