The Umbrellas

I see the shelter as a trap
with my sanctity as the price
when umbrellas aspire to claim
the victim seeking safety’s arms
the canopy dangles high above
beyond my reach yet always there
leading me to step away
into the realms of compromise

I stand outside in the downpour
drenched to the bone through suffering
wanting something to stop the pain
give relief from shower’s bite
I may flee to arid dreams
still the dampness is always there
the shelter asks for everything
that I vow to bend my knees

promising much in a trade
if I only cross the line
protection would be draped
upon my frame in recompense
with a small toll that I must give
splay my body as offering
to be dry becomes the goal
as shadows crawl from fabric’s dome

assuming the position in reverence
ready for violations I can’t forgive
trespass granted for safety’s sake
no longer feeling rain’s cold drops
the umbrellas are raised above
preventing moisture from my life
instead the water flows
from the tears that drown my soul.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180528.