Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2019
More often than not,
I find myself getting lost
in the distant freedom.

Clear and colourful
yet extremely far
and seemingly unattainable.

Even if I am given the powers
to reach out
and hold on to it,  
I am stopped
by the bars
that lock me inside,
which do not
let me out
in the fresh air.

Skies call me,
the clouds approach me,
I can smell the breeze
but I can't fly.

When will I break free?
It matters not
as much as
"how" I would rather.
Aaditya
Written by
Aaditya  29/M/Chennai, India
(29/M/Chennai, India)   
211
   Bogdan Dragos
Please log in to view and add comments on poems