Reluctant writers
stepping out of the shadows,
out of the cool, damp, mellow home
where we hide our sorrows,
our tortured thoughts
chained to the furnace of regret,
on house arrest for our sins,
and the sins of others,
circling around
in our own captivity
But the light comes through the windows,
through the holes in the roof,
maybe I wasn’t meant to be so aloof.
the doorknob doesn’t seem so scary,
I turn it, walk out, and see,
the light rains down and thunders,
the feeling reverberates in me.
I soak up all around me,
the people and the trees,
growing side by side
with the force of destiny,
the unknown is adventure
with friends along the way,
exhilarated freedom
with every breath I play
No comments:
Post a Comment