my leg is a rotting log and i am stumps
i am stumps which are crawling with the little maggots
the little white slimy maggots which are crawling under my skin
under my skin they crawl out of the rot
the rot which is left inside of me
inside of me it festers dark and brown
brown and dark inside of me
inside of me where the stumps are
where the rotting log once was
there are swans all around me
but they are blind
or i am invisible
and i don't know which
i once found myself at a crossroads
i searched within myself
and like they love to say
i took the road less traveled
now i am at the end of the road
i say goodbye and yet i find myself thinking about you again
i think about you in the weeping willow
singing a song of emotions that i do not know
i wonder if given the opportunity
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