Thirst

I slump in the desert
weary
distraught

I hide near a dead tree
clumsy
and hot

I reach in my pocket
only to see
nothing but sand where my water should be

the tree it is old
dried up and dead
I reach in a hole
under the my bed
expecting just dirt
but finding water instead

Movement
by Oxymiscreant on May 27. © Luc C., All rights reserved
Clock is ticking
Earth is shifting
Sky is turning

Walls are bricking
Dirt is sifting
Fires burning

Every day
In every life
will keep going
full of rife

Keeping on
No matter the strife.