The Floor

Only the floor
has earned my trust.

Its wooden boards
faithful.

Always there
to hold my drunken head.

Unlike the “lofty” ceiling,
distant,
aloof,
judgmental.

Claiming to be closer to God,
it hides the Sun from me,
keeps the rain off my bed,
and allows the Moon
but a peek in the window.

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1 Comment

Filed under outlaw poetry, poetry, religion

One response to “The Floor

  1. Allongée sur mon lit , face à la fenêtre ,il fait nuit , ,je me laisse à penser , à rêver loin de ma terre natale ,La lune a trop mangé ,elle est devenue énorme ,au loin l’orage gronde..Quel temps fait il chez moi ? du soleil , ?du froid ?,de la neige ?,,J’ai toute ma tête ,ce soir je suis sobre ,le plafond et le plancher ne se rencontreront pas ., Je vais pouvoir m’endormir : calme et détendue .Demain sera un autre jour .

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