It was there
within a crack
of a sunbaked sidewalk
–a beaten trampled upon path
that i placed my brittle soul
within a gritty soiled ground.
Passerby, your foot so close
to the fractured light —
i see your sole but lost my own
soul.
Is the reason why i choose
that the thumb of rule is to be
that i watch the walkers
–>leaving me.
:: 1-13-2016 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 