Footprints

   Convoluted pathways, of space and time,

Are twining, like a serpent, through my idle mind,

   A drum beat rhythm, is the sound of rain,

Silent words, to ease my pain,

   The ink is wet, and bares your face,

In every prose, you leave a trace,

   Like receding footprints on the sand,

Don’t think I’ll ever understand.

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