Saturday, April 21, 2012

...more old poetry

from the other secret drawer.


Like two birds.

My heart has stopped beating
      not just for the moment, but for the time
it takes a life to flash before ones eyes.

For a lifetime.

It hurts, this dead end of emotion, and
I am left with one single question – why?
Who can answer this for me?
No one… not even myself.

Trapped, like a bird in a cage,
the two of us sit, looking at each other.
You have the courage to fly out as soon
as the door to your cage is opened,
but I sit still,
afraid of the unknown,
the vast expanse that I have never tested my wings in.

At first my heart pounded so fast
that it hurt my ribs.
Now it doesn’t beat at all,
and I feel strangled
      the pressure of missing air torturing my mind.

I sometimes feel confined,
locked up,
forced into a
mold that doesn’t quite fit me.









Dislodged


Lost somewhere in time
Expanded in space that is not mine
I float in time
Dislodged, displaced
Confused, homeless

This is not my skin
My life, my time

1 comment:

  1. 'Forced into a mold that doesn't fit me' - a perfect line. I can relate. The beautiful thing is ... we can all relate. We have all felt this way. Our race wasn't originally created to fit in these molds. Imagine the freedom in the garden of Eden; it doesn't compare to what we know here.

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