laying out my pearls

my life as described would be as it would seem
as a saw-mill destined curving stream
over here on this side, the other is where to be
still not a boat nor bridge, no f’ing way around,
just lots of logs, like dreams that had fallen down
still it is the other side
that is where i’m bound
so onto the logs, across as i go
they tip they sway these f’ers even roll
swamped by the waters that make them float away
i guess that’s how i feel on this very day.

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