On The Ground

Another time

When you think you’re better

All out of rhyme

In the snowy weather


In front of line

But sublime                  


A gilded shrine

But the priest in leather

Get down below

Like a sunken treasure


Throw out a line

Not to find                                  


I don’t think I want to flee it

On the ground looking straight to see it


A flawed design

And the leagues together

A tilted hat

With a broken feather


You're out of line

But divine


A hand too kind

With a mind to fetter

A fleur-de-lis

But no word nor letter


We’re out of time

But so fine


From the brink you won’t believe it

Once you see you’ll cease to feel it

Kind of thing I don’t want to flee it

I’m on the ground looking straight to see it


We try to make something from

But you refuse it and use it to rake your sum