I feel dirty like a thief
Who has stolen something,
Like a homeless person
On the side of the street.
I'm guilty of many crimes
And inside I weep
For the loss of time
And the pain I see,
For the days that pass
And the bridge I will Never leap
I feel I can never
Be really truly me,
Always held captive
By something unseen.
But I can't let go.
I have to believe
That the day will come
When I will break Free.
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Swiftly, quickly like a summer night's breeze, the day is coming.
When I will be free.
YOU ARE READING
My Midnight: A Second Collection Of Poetry
PoetryThis is my second collection of poetry.