We used to run free
With the wind in our hair
Like horses
With no saddle on their backs
But we buried ourselves
In worries and cares and sorrows
And built chains out of guilt
So as we whipped beasts
Simply to satisfy our anger
And spread hate around the world
We fashioned saddles for our backs
And never looked back
To see how the wind made rivers
With our teardrops.
YOU ARE READING
Candles of the Night: A Book of Poetry
PuisiA book of all of the random poems I have written. Read through them and you'll be smitten. Updates are random for inspiration doesn't always flow. But often enough because I'm not that slow. Yes, many are written in rhyming verse. Yet not all are...
