This glazed over window through which the world
Shines brightly in sweet harmony of light
Blocks my reach to the rest, my fingers curled
Around my hope to be free from the dark's night.
Every day I look out, each day I see:
A stunning white dove taps on my window...
Cracking it, breaking it, trying to free
my soul ensnared by the demons below.
But daily also comes the man in black
To mend the window, to trap me again.
I scream and please for him to halt; the lack
of freedom from the dark chains tightens, then.
I peer through the glass at the people there
So free, with purpose but without a care.
YOU ARE READING
Not From Chicago.
PoetryThis is a collection of my best poetry in my opinion! I hope you enjoy, whoever may paint their eyes over the letters and words I've arranged! PS-This book includes poems from "A World In Words" by yours truly. Go check out the other book, if you li...
