Tuesday, March 20, 2012


This quicksand swallows me
I gasp for a breath
But my lungs are filled solid
I reach for an escape
But no hand is there to retrieve me
I try to swim out
But my body is seized up
Then advice received comes to mind
Stop struggling
And wait for help
So as I wait quietly
The hand that had been so absent
Appears before me
And I am lifted from my prison
The entrapment that is quicksand

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