I cannot wait
To be free
Of the rusted manacles
That have caught and bound me
Never have I tasted
The brim of the sea
Without the strain of these chains
A bird’s wings
Are not meant to be clipped

no man has yet
found a healing treatment
for the sore of war
the scab's fissure
can erupt at anytime
with its deadly pus
bringing the loss
of life

men who wield power
over caches of arms
have not the will
to remedy
their differences
so the sore
continues
to bring
trauma
to the world

When my words die
And I cut too deep
When blood stains fade
And tears numb skin
Don't wait for me
When all is gone
And winds blow quietly
When the dark loses fear
And life moves on
Don't wait for me
When I leave
And don't write a note
When I leave
Don't wait for me
*Don't wait for me