As if being held in a prison cell, I squirm and squiggle to gain control of self.
Knowing I can never be happy, falling prey to another’s merciless whim.
There are far too many places to be explored, and I must go alone to
find and meet whatever comes to me.
Freedom of movement, thought and ideas fill my every moment of living.
Why be shackled to another man’s idea of life, when I can have the freedom of just being alone with my inner self and not be subject to another’s greed or vice?
Birds singing. Bells ringing.Dawn breaking. Daylight shaping.Wind blowing. Trees bending.Sunlight filtering. Clouds forming.Skies darkening. Loud thundering.Lightening striking. Rain splashing.It’s an April shower on a Sunday morning.
to hold on to a sliver of something good or holy.Waking every day instead to cries of woe and songs ofdeep sadness, becoming one with pain inside, feelingand experiencing a difficult slow demise of personhood.Likely facets turning inside out, causing agony and solitaryabandonment.Quietly living out this long and tired life, going nowhere,finding there is no…
Taking notice of details, meticulously touching fibersand particles of literate behavior through words of life.
A quiet joy stirs in my soul, taking meon a peaceful journey into contemplativeserenity.
Used as pawns in games of deceit, lies from mothersmouths tell the story of their actual abuse.Little babies being hit and abused for what comesnatural – putting their fingers in their mouths.Why? Because mothers are only children themselves,with no instincts of motherhood as yet – they aremuch too young.Give fathers their rightful duties – they…
Giving in to the senseless opportunities of incandescent thought, centering continually in margins of life.
