beauty, love, men, poetry, women

All the same

Aching with purpose

The slow grind of working

Inside and out

Towards rather than

Away from

Bring your demons 

Mine are harnessed

Except when there’s a slip

But the rough beast of my will

Sniffs the air

And digs claws

Into the world

Draws no blood

As it stands proud

Ever onward

Onward

Inward

all the same

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