FEEBLE lights,
circling past,
seeing eye dogs,
that map out your
fight.
STRIPPED paint,
scarecrow smile,
and a limping pony
with to many miles.
AND the poet sings,
and the poet sings,
and the poet learns
to dance, in his dream.
DAVID GERARDINO
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/prick-that-soul/
