Photo by Julian Scagliola on Unsplash
A sunset view inside this rusty black bars
my left held too tight — held long enough
right at rest, holding a leftover sandwich
with tiny bits of hope spread inside.
stood and waited if the gates shall open,
watched if a storm could break the bars
found a hundred keys but none worked out
holes are shut — even the right can’t fit
Rays across here and there, linear
come to hold, behold
stay to see, blindfolds undone — done.
is this fate circling around me?
Hands are full,
Look up, forget not.
Comments (1)
This is great, thank you for sharing!