Through The Mud

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dirty from head to toe

grime in my nails from clawing

at the mud

the kind that seems to stick

no amount of cleansing

erases the muck all over

the more that I drag myself

the heavier my clothes get

a film of disgust

clinging and pulling me back

trudging on

face unrecognizable

eyes are the only visible sight

focused on the edge

of this filthy pit

filled with every negative feeling

horrible choice

and each mud covered mistake

tiring in my journey forward

the sharp incline up

needing to just grab the top

reaching out to passersby

 who look down on my appearance

afraid I will pull them down into the sludge

of despair and shame

not realizing I just need a little assistance

wanting to just get out of my hell hole

peel off this cocoon of feces

rinse in the pool of possibilities

and dry in the shade of the future

For more poetry, check out The Good, The Bad & The Ugly

 

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