Aug
14
2012
Poem for the Day
My Window
By Michele MolinaIsolation—Desperation—The hours become days
And the days become weeks.
I look up and the leaves are turning colors once again.
Bright and sunny days make no difference when
My mind is clouded and every heartbeat is like a
thunderbolt of pain.
I tread through the months and the years.
At times I have to scrape up the energy to greet each day.
I see the light out of my window, but only feel the darkness
around me.
My body is listless and my features betray my true age.
It is time to open the window to my soul and let the light in.
Uncategorized | prison culture | 14 August 2012 |
