Secret Spiders

Leaving home

casting aside

the webs

that bind us

Packing bags

with memories…

Got the swagger –

Hidden dagger –

of truth –

Walking forth

with good intentions

No further mentions

of a sad life…

Full of bravado –

No more

facade

Leaving home

pissing of the plebs

that wind us

up –

Filling up the cups

with wine –

Got the swagger –

as I walk

down the street

People to meet…

Switched into

the sound…

of the webs

that bind us…

like secret spiders

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