I sit by my window.
Look outside.
Hear the birds.
They are free.
What is a song?
Why do they sing?
What do they sing?
Why aren't we free?
Do they sing for us?
Or do they rejoice
That We Are Gone.
I sit on my bed.
Close my eyes.
Embrace the Dark.
Go into Dreams.
But What is Flight?
And What is Movement?
What is Exercise?
And What is Freedom?
I sit on my porch.
Breathe in.
Breathe Out.
Stand, and Cry Out.
What is Air?
What is Sustenance?
What are the Necessities of life,
If I can't have the touch
Of a Friend?
A Cup of Coffee
Shared While Spilling
The Tea?
This Confinement
Pushes
All The Air Out.
No comments:
Post a Comment