The Totem

The Totem

The totem stands against the wall, 
Just askew as the night before. 
Reminding us of all we knew
When it crossed the threshold door. 

Should you seek to find the meaning there
You’ll never know, I’ll never tell. 
For to repeat what’s held inside
Would open Dante’s eternal well. 

The totem stands against the wall. 
It looks at me, stares full of rage. 
I feel its gaze and give it hate
As I walk upon the stage. 

I wonder should I throw it out
And leave my memories behind.
It builds my shape and power there
Not certain I have any other kind. 

The totem stands against the wall
Waiting for its time a-gain. 
Waiting to be used by me
Unleash the rage, unhinge my pain. 

150 150 Stafford Wood
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