My Path by Dan Grote
Am I easier to stomach now,
a sloppy drunk with a
neat drink?
A generic face with a
designer drug, hoping
to find a hypodermic
in a haystack?
Every sunset, an irradiated
orange, every morning a
whore with open arms.
How much really changes
in twelve uneasy steps?
(My strides having always been tentative)
When you always find yourself walking
Into the same,
old
trap.
Dan Grote is a formerly incarcerated writer who puts pen to paper because he is simply not qualified to do anything else. Catch his blog at freshfromthecan.blogspot.com and email him at danmgrote@gmail.com.
