I long to be free, in the world of the living.
Confined in a casket of the dead and morbid.
I’m chained down by fate, which I wish not to be.
The world I see around me is different than what others have seen.
They see a door, I see a way out.
I feel bound by fate, they feel free like a bird.
Others taste sweet honey, I taste spoiled milk.
When I touch a rose, I slice my finger.
Others touch the soft, waxy petals of the tulips.
I see life as a suffering dog, while others feel it as a breeze.
The barking dogs are drumming in my ears, as a cat purrs far in the distance away from me.
They have come back for me, for I have tried to see what others have seen.
As they drag me back to the pit, I think to myself,
I long to be free.
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Kumo
YOU ARE READING
My Sonnet
PoetryI now know that this might not be the correct way to write one but yeah....