The Prisoner

 

I feel 

Like I’m wearing 

A suit 

Sometimes 

Like my hands are 

Gloves 

Like my skin is

cloth 

And I want 

Only 

To peel it all 

Off 

Reveal 

The blood

The sinews 

The muscle 

The fat 

The bones 

Because 

That’s what 

We are 

After all 

And maybe 

All we can hope 

Is 

To not be seen

As 

A blubbering mess

On the 

Floor 

 

◄ The Fairy’s Tale

(This is NOT about the virus)- We ►

Comments

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Anthony

Sun 3rd May 2020 18:46

How are you Cynthia? It’s been a while

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Sat 2nd May 2020 16:06

Very interesting.

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