Quick Sand Poem by alicia cross

Sweating from between my bones,
As if these courts are my only homes;
every moment that passes is like toxic gasses,
Terrified of a mistake;
Playing in harmony like a band,
Turns into quick sand;
One thing goes wrong, and then not being able to get back in a groove
You keep fighting until you can no longer move;
Crawling into a hole,
Only because they have taken your soul;
It's never about how much fame,
Just recognizing all of your shame;

1-13-09