Words held captive
Guilty of all we do
Yet thoughts are orphans
Sitting in cages like animals being abused.

Days of speaking in riddle
And writing in rhyme
Are now handed over
To some clown dressed as a mym.

Language and words are a thing of the past
Only to be used as a flaw in our law
To be used as a pass.

Words no more
Actions of ******
Morals beaten, twisted and chained
Treated as a freak show
Looked upon as weak and insane.

I colored this whole page outside the lines
Just to prove you can't keep me in binds.

My heart is not
Broken
It's only beginning to
Grow

A bird flies
Nature throws itself to the wind
And all enchanted bodies
Sleep not tonight

Roaring tides of sea took clouds
As chariots deep and light as terror
Or awe at what could be the last
Wink of lightning on chains of evening

I rooted myself to this bushel
And bore the berry, nature told me thus
For life may be as fruit near fallen
Or rotten-putrid, alcoholic mess.

Driftwood sees me early
And I wake when the storm is over
Not me I told, not shaven me
I am wild now, I have seen the cold.

So woe, those days may live again,
But I will take the razor once more
And live as apes may call themselves human
And live as comfortably as I may after all.
Away from the storm,
But not gone.