The Living Monster

March 30, 2010
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Reaching out with fingers screwed and twisted
Clawing at the sky trying to break free from its bindings
But the anchors hold them there
They are their prisoners
They are their captives
But is it not true that the ones holding, are not being held themselves
They are cuffed beneath the earth
Chained forever to never move, never go from place to place
Never able to know what it's like there
Only what it's like here
The sky feels their anger
Turning gray with feelings that are not its own
The thing, the monster is forced to toss in turn in the angry wind
But still not able to move like the things around it
All the color gone
All the life gone
Nothing left to call its own
Nothing but its fingers that reach up into the sky

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