Turning Leaves

Whirling winds of turned leaves
surround the figure hunched
on a wet bench,
Where he sits and writes for

everyone, no one,
Himself and another,
For hate and for love
with a passion that bursts free

on to the white cell with grey bars,
Trapped by the words that
sit in regimented place
out of fear,

And the winds that howl
Go be free.

2014-10-20_1413803566

Advertisements

One thought on “Turning Leaves

So, what do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s