A Map Of Me Please
I hear the front of
a bus call my name,
but I do not
give it answer,
I hear the rumbling
train track's lullaby,
but I refrain from sleeping
in its soothing melody,
I see the failing hope but
unreasonably still hold on,
I feel the heart strings groan but
at bay I still try to hold the pressure,
I see, feel, hear every part
leaning towards a cowards way out,
but still hold to the living desire
of blooming unburden and pain free,
I'm still searching for how to be me
but I need someone to give me the map.
23/07/09.
Poetry by liz munro
Read 611 times
Written on 2009-07-23 at 14:40
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