In their eyes
are the roads closed;
why are the roads closed
if others cross?
My eyes can see
but only less than
what's envisioned;
imagined and remembered...
There is a world beyond
and many after,
colors of which
the names exist
in dreams
and only such.
Why won't they let me go?
It seems as though
reality will
wake me underwater,
according to them.
YOU ARE READING
indoors.
PoesíaWhat's a college junior to do when her young adulthood has been robbed of a rainbow of events, support, more than one tight bond, and life lessons? The birth of this collection of poetry.
