I see in the mirror
A structure so scattered,
living in confines of laws.
The gunny bag presence,
Strings tightly drawn.
And sometimes the hush of wind,
Calls a whistle of to me,
my sight just draws through.
Squeezing my vision,
The small pores, trappings weaved.
Hungry my dreams,
the world of creation waiting for me.
Beads of sweat start to form,
the only sign of something in me alive.
My eyes freeze,
on the little spider in this prison,
Incessantly she climbs.
Not grieving,
not burying dreams in defeat.
Tripping to crumbles,
again voyaging to the top,
wisely setting its feet between gaps of ropes.
What a brave fall,
braver where it aspires to reach.
I sort of stand,
in the rising of euphoria,
I will not let the steam die,
I will burn incandescence the sky.
I will just not throttle my dreams,
I will paint the sky yellow with glee.
I want to be free.
I want to be free.
my eyes
How a real life incidence can trigger the creation of a jewel..of an intensely passionate sentiment that rears its head with all its strength inside a soul...
ReplyDeletethis is a testament to that emotion...prolly know wer dis comes from...and so all do more poignant...respect u fr ur stand...and luvd ur work all da more! tc and wish ya luck! :)
really a fabulous poem !!! u have real talents as a poet!!
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