Array ( [sid] => 176220 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Precision [time] => 2013-06-02 10:11:07 [hometext] => [bodytext] => I think it all comes down to the chase.
The labor of our lungs responding to the thrust of the winds.
Your feet take turns coinciding with the beating of my heart.
Hot pavements and sweat streaks;
It all comes down to the break, the line, the brim.
The chase. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 198 [topic] => 43 [informant] => cathartic [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Precision


Precision
Date: Sunday, 2nd June 2013 @ 10:11:07 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: cathartic
I think it all comes down to the chase.
The labor of our lungs responding to the thrust of the winds.
Your feet take turns coinciding with the beating of my heart.
Hot pavements and sweat streaks;
It all comes down to the break, the line, the brim.
The chase.

This poem is Copyright © cathartic


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