Blind DiggerA Poem by Aimee HoltHeavy earth on my shoulders, like the tide.
A soft cave was my home, like Play Dough.
My hands were broad and
curved, like a shovel.
I created a network of
tunnels, like veins.
An upturned bottle against
my head, I was the villain.
Cast out from my garden. © 2012 Aimee Holt |
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Added on October 18, 2012 Last Updated on October 18, 2012 AuthorAimee HoltSurbiton, Surrey, United KingdomAboutFlorist, farmkid, musician, artist, writer.... more..Writing
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