In a box
trapped in a box
of darkened despair
no escape to light
feel deprived
no oxygen to breathe
so tight struggle
in your deepest darkest
hour
its a daunting struggle
of a darkened world
in a box
so cold chill as ice
hearts so cold dull
saddened of the fear
crippling with terror
as you shed that lonely tear
in a box
deepened by those thoughts
fighting to escape
for just that bit of air
body trembles just for that
little light
to seek from this box of
dark despair
in a box
so alone so alone
in that darkest hour
just wanting that little air to breathe
just that little light to shine
in the world deep dark despair

In A Box
by Deb Harman ©

I want to listen to the music that our bodies make,
when it's only you and I in the room.
Whether it's touching, or kissing, or talking when it's late.
I just want to feel in tune.

There is a God
I've witnessed his work.
But it wasn't in a pew,
on Sunday,
at church.