Stuck in a cage
The wind blows outside, the rivets screwed into the floor rattle
Clouds jangle and merge and brush aside each other
My frozen heart clasps the gates shut
Shallow belief clasps the breast bone of pain tight against the lungs
Forward locked choked, gasping grappling
The same old story; no joy no fun no laughter
Just frozen belief; tears swimming like luminescent fish in a sanitary dish
Crisp flakes of sorrow peeling from bleeding feet
Marched time since petals first appeared on the branches
A springtime long past
A permanent winter dwelling heaped in melting grey snow
No chance of changing this time, it melts into grey slate mist
Internal distress squeezed in lime flavoured treacle pudding
A green young shoot, a parrot squawks in parallel thoughts
Structured dismissal of abject misery
Opening
Revival
A repeat performance of life
Copyright Patrick Turner-Lee 30th June 2015
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