Sweet is the freedom
I long to hold in my hands
Once again
Gone, is the kingdom
Of my imaginations innocent lands
Now they are barren, cold, and dark
How I long to be underneath that oak tree
Listening to the birds sweet trills
Feeling like I could do anything, free
And exposed to life’s thrills
To watch the sky change
From pink, red, and orange
To watch the sun turn
From bright yellow, to molten gold
To be lulled to sleep
By natures song
Blanketed by the shadows creep
No right, no wrong
How I long to be back in that graveyard
Full of oaks and pines
A place of grief and mourning, how fitting
Where the dead lie
Unheard cries
And shattered minds
Come to pray
For the souls lost
Even the insane
Or those who praised the cross
Id watch the leaves blow in the wind
And headstones lay still
How fitting for me
How I find peace among the dead
Because there’s no peace among the living
The shadows are silent, a comforting bed
Not loud and toxic, invisible wars with no winning
Scars that run deep to the marrow
Is nothing when my heart is constantly stabbed by an arrow
Winds that shake my unsteady home
Rain that thunders as I walk alone
Something I’m used to being
Heart made of glass, my mind of stone
But glass and stone eventually crack
From unforgiving pressure, from life
Everydays’ strife
Silent screams
Unheard dreams
I used to think
I could rule the world
Now, I can barely control me
Let alone every other boy or girl
The plane I used to fly
Is now spiraling down in a nosedive
I’m just waiting for the crash
Crying, wondering how much longer the pain will last.

Want to try your hand at poetry? Email me at

Featured image credits to Hansuan_Fabregas on Pixabay

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