Clacking noises on tables surrounding
Drifting smoke that fills the room
Voices around which cannot be seen
This when my senses are keen
There is the smooth action upon the table
In a place where all else is unstable
Crystal clear within my head
The hand is steady and sure
Sweat upon my brow so cool
Never forgetting my roots
Using it as a gleaming tool
To remember when there was no light
At the end of an endless tunnel
Then came that feint gleam of light
Down that deep struck funnel
Giving life back one drop at a time
Upon that table of smooth green felt
The stick within my grasp a heavy weight
Not realizing at the time my fate
Over years to serve me well
To eat bread daily avoiding hell
Wafting smoke permeating my very clothes
Odor of where I come from
What I am about in essense of time
Shuffling feet on sawdust floors
Out of the hole I shall climb
~Moses~
© 2008 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
