Poetry from a Time Forgotten for Sunday, May 04, 2008

Sunday, May 4, 2008

Servant

I am but a mere servant, whose master’s sandals I am not worthy to fasten. My visage, grimaced by toiling ground overturned. I climb walls that crumble beneath me, as mistakes blister to the surface. How can I wear his name when the pride I carry is my own? I give the wrong impression, as I pass out... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Ariala at 5:24 AM Comments (7) (permalink)

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