Freedom, Obsession

January 10, 2008
By Megan Anderson, Cincinnati, OH

Obsession follows fated wonder,
Festering on days of thunder,
Something else it needs to plunder,
Shall it be my sanity?

Manifesting in the sky,
A force is brewing oh so high,
Wide with wonder are my eyes:
This I always like to see.

Blackened cotton kills the blue,
This cotton tainted, yet so true,
It has but one thing left to do,
A good long cry is all it needs.

It wipes its tears with pavement, black,
On cars and running humans’ backs,
On the shaking, fearless grass,
But I only want those tears in me.

The force begins to scream its pain,
Displays its feelings without shame,
A growl that comes not meant to tame.
As am I, can you not see?

A glowing fist comes crashing down,
And dents the charred and steaming ground,
Oh how my own can mock the sound,
But never will I be as free.

Obsession followed fated wonder,
And festered on those days of thunder,
Something else it had to plunder,
Now it has my sanity.


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