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My Porch is a Prison
April 20, 2013
Sitting in the chair in which I often sat,
On the porch my father built,
I have come for some peace
My porch is a prison
I am trapped
First by the porch railing that surrounds where I sit
My personal prison, anxiety, anger, and fear
Then by the fence surrounding the backyard
“Not allowed beyond the fence” they say
I am never free
Beyond the fence, the sun is setting
The powder blue sky infused with bright pink,
The backdrop to the mesmerizing star of stars
So beautiful and enchanting
My Siren
The escaping sun calls to me
Yet I cannot run to her beauty
My porch is a prison
The black sky begins its journey across my yard
But I do not wish to go inside
My porch is a prison
But my home is a hell
© Angeli B., Visalia, CA
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