deepundergroundpoetry.com

Without fail

These ropes won't hold me much longer
fraying with each moment passed by
I see prisms of light on the ceiling
as this prison is dying inside
 
I'm stirred, shaken back a bit
exasperated in the stillness of time
more than the fields need tending
your warmth needs to enter my mind
 
don't hold me down
for I am just a man
in a worn out pair of blue jeans
with calluses on my hand
 
breed me in the winds of tomorrow
as they take up their sails
not one for resting on laurels  
nor watching anything fail
 
JusTim_
Written by JusTim_
Published
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