Freedom

When I write
my pen sets me free
a river
gently tumbling over every stone, every crevice.
gurgling with happiness,
a constant flow--
there is no
there is no
pressure.
Just emotion.

When I write
the words cut through my binds
I soar on the wings of dreams,
unstoppable.
There are no limits.

But you.
Cold
indifferent smile
harsh, aloof, unfeeling
almost morbid.
You anchor me to the ground
like a child on a leash.
I strain and
strain against the burden of the steel chain
but it holds fast.

I cling on to my wings my
dreams.
But you do not understand.
A cloud drifts by, and I lift off,
racing in pursuit.
I stop short
moments away from destiny.

Resignedly
I turn around
and you are still
there
pulling me down.





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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

blackamethyst said...
Jun. 21, 2009 at 3:20 pm
I love this poem. I can relate
 
<3::wish4wings::<3 This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jun. 20, 2009 at 9:12 pm
this was very good! i really liked it:))))
 
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