Finding in the Dark

Mon, 05/27/2019 - 23:53 -- rowe234

I have found myself in the dark, who’s there?

Rustling leaves of mystery, what is it?

The path I took, feces stepped without care,

The abyss, venture branch that I seem fit.

 

The howls and scream being heard, wolf or man?

Legs under terror, swift in the glaze moon;

Prints seen, mine or someone? Pack of a clan?

Calling the moment, finding of him soon.

 

I was lost, find a way through the dense woods.

Ducking through and through, deep in the unknown,

At moon sight, found him, looking for some food.

Uncle, touch of his tum of what is shown.

 

“Why...Uncle is picking berries at night?”

Said, “Don't eat them, your bowels won't do right.”

 

Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 
Our world

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