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Doc. Martens
Tough earthy souls,
To conquer jagged rocky mountains,
Or crush the insidious bones of their misanthropes,
Deep Violet Skin,
Stretched across intimidating voluptuous skeletons,
fit to stomp and bounce
In a screaming passionate crowd,
fit to twirl and curtsy,
Across emerald midnight hills,
Velvety free thinking tongues,
Licking at ankles and telling them their secrets,
Beautiful words of water colored pasts,
Flowing from their ever open mouths,
Words that tickle against bare skin,
While rushing out like a stream of water,
Spilling from a gargoyle's frozen stone lips,
They whisper and they yell,
Voicing their opinions to all wandering eyes which fall upon them,
Boisterous, bewitching fairies,
Carrying me to my next strange destination,
Capturing the essence of the land,
Picking up its sepia memories along the way,
Caressing little painted piggies,
Caring for sweet sugared feet,
as they lead the way,
Along the undiscovered road,
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