Saturday, June 27, 2009


My hands are bound,
Shackles hold me down,
My world is crumbling,
Before my eyes.

Is it spiritual?
Is it physical?
Is it mental?
I am loosing touch.

I want to lie down,
Close my eyes
Drift away,
And never wake up.

The hopelessness,
The emptiness,
The agony.

As i levitate,
To a better place,
A peaceful place.

A Poem by Thelma Migue.

1 comment:

  1. i love the fast paced rhythm and the tempo, good finishing (like peace after a very noisy atmosphere.)