Little Egypt

Down o’er Little EgyptLies the grave of men I’ll never knowFatal faithA myriad of myselfWhere wisdom tends to grow

Slice & glideBuzzards fly through oxygenated flowI oft ask what reality isAs I tap dance to its show

“It takes time,” they sayI truly want to believe ’emI gasp for air out of spiteEven when the interim warmth is freezin

So I silence my silly sorrowsDive deep til I drownSuffocate so softlyA subtle sought-after sound