The middle child was born
With strong horns braced to battle
Feelings that shout about life’s inequity
A life that holds little middle ground
Only a simple uncompromising strategy
That demands push first or be pushed under
A youthful desire to heal nature’s wounds
Hardens into a tenacious oilfield trucker
Predatorily controlling a cycle of patient hunts
A life’s beginning removed to the Mile Zero
A new existence under the biggest, bluest
Umbrella skies that anyone could ever hope to see
|
Submission Name: Peripheries
