The gold diggers
In cat litter I dig my hollow hole.
Through time's tearing mould,
to the cheerful cries of my lord.
For our earthly sins unwritten debt,
to search for gold I was therein kept.
With mournful mind and hopeless hand,
I seek glitter beneath vanishing lamp.
Measly rocks and rags I turn,
for my owner put no fire to burn,
and gold fades quickly to sand.
Behold the diggers slowly freeze,
as eyes other struggling gazes seek,
but no golden gloss our life's pit reach.
A lonely earth circle I'm set to lurk,
and fool's gold I was meant to search.
Poetry by Tim Ohman
Read 627 times
Written on 2013-10-22 at 16:47
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