Free as the wind was she
With no shackles or bonds,
But caged now is she
Moaning like a wistful jailbird.
Oh! How fate laughs at her
Every time she closes her eyes,
For she can glimpse at
'What could it h've been'.
The putrid city smells and,
The incessant honking,
Long hours at work she yearns,
Or the endless lectures at school.
She feels the scorching sun,
As she relishes the beads of sweat.
Before her stand her dear ones
Laughing, singing, forever merry,
Unlike the last time she'd seen,
There gaunt faces begging death
Respite from this viscous plague.
Her mother extends forward a hand,
But just before could she clasp it
A shuddering pain tacked her lungs
And she woke up with a jolt,
To find the nightmare continuing.
Still, a thousand leagues to...
By wildfire2201
Poetry is the most constructive conduit to let out your feelings, My pain, anger, hurt and joy... Previously... More