there used to be
a wall
strong, impenetrable, continuous, surrounding
no entrance
no exit
trapped
alone
but then she heard
a voice
breaking, bleading, hands reaching
muscles
strength
struggle
freedom
freedom?
then there was
a choice
here
it is safe:
familiar, strong, protected, separate
she places a brick -
brown and rough
mortor -
gray and wet
and yet -
an echo
illusions, delusions, a vision, a voice
sounding
searching
seeking
calling
and so
a step
over the bricks, the mortor, the stone
into the dark
risk
trust
freedom
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2 comments:
did you write this poem? if not where did you find this?
i did write this poem, just a few months ago
-K
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