Wednesday, January 28, 2015

the life you've chosen

this dry farm,
a thousand parched acres
of brown burden
curled in a flat sea
of dust and dirt,
it lies before you
every morning when
you wake up.
you've prayed for rain,
you've asked for forgiveness
for your sins,
you've cried and begged
for mercy, but it never ends,
this farm.
this life you've chosen.
in the next world
you will fish.
you will sail the high seas,
throwing your net
over the side and be free.

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