The Call Of The Jungle
Only weeks before winter's touch, Don Loco's new sea-faring vessel, La Perla Negra, entered the Nicaraguan docks.
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Filth

Filth

A Poem by Carlton Rolle

I shake, rattle, and roll around.

But I try not to make a sound.

Nothing to escape the tawdry day.

Humid weather makes my smoking ok.

I push from behind, nearly breaking my spine.

Trying not to miss the opportunity.

One step closer.

I leap over the fence.

I try not to step back into the filth.

© 2015 Carlton Rolle


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Added on May 28, 2015
Last Updated on May 28, 2015

Author

Carlton Rolle
Carlton Rolle

New York City, NY



About
I write because I must. Keeping towards a way to seek the message. Something that we all need, trust, and love. To speak an existence. To understand something's life. To work on hope and companio.. more..

Writing