FreedomA Poem by spayne94Buried beneath clouds of white, Thick upon my glowing skin, Pressed on like nails in stone, Like hell, impossible to breathe, Stuck like you're grand dads clock work, Pushing hard, Yet no luck comes free, Mission impossible waves at you, Laughing in the distance, Yet you grow, Like the rage in your lungs, Builds like tornados in your skull, Whirling in all that is broken, And now suddenly you see, And as heat compacts you break free, And as free as wind © 2013 spayne94 |
Compartment 114
Compartment 114
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