Like a bird in a cage,
The sun waiting to rise,
The prisoner behind the walls….
I feel trapped,
I am suspended in space,
I can’t feel the ground…..
Just before the end,
The hour before the sun rises,
Like the beginning,
Before the end….
At crossroads,
This is so hard,
It cuts like a knife………….
© thelma migue 2009
Like the persona, we all face Crossroads at, almost, all times. Good work Thelma, bless you lots.
ReplyDeleteLARRY LIZA.
I felt like there was more to be told but u made ur point nonetheless. Nice.
ReplyDelete