Untitled Poem by Dawn Swinnie

Untitled



The taste of success
dangling at the tip of my tongue
the fight
for intellectualism
and accomplishmen
is laid on thick
while the struggle
reaps its own pain
the only goodness ever tasteed
is the bitterness
its ancestors left behind
the only legacy paved
is the scars so deeply rooted
within itself
prying at every
chance it can
to recieve the sweet fruit it once bore
only to witness
that the journey has disappeared
rotting into the dissipated air of nothing

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Dawn Swinnie

Dawn Swinnie

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