You thought the air I breathe is freedom? Anticipating peace for those coming after me. Contemplating precious love, kindness goes by my sheen.
Shackled and chained in despair, I can’t outline the pain and scars of a wounded heart. Withholding the cuts and scratches deep within. Freedom of a thousand men might succumb a soul or two, be sure it will last a lifetime.
If I told you I see freedom in those cuffs, you won’t understand the sleepless nights behind my smile. When you see a soldier laugh it's a good sign cause it is what it is on the outside.
About the Creator
Fred Musoke
I want to give my writing a fragrance. I mean, that redolence which won’t only outlast my generation, but will also nudge the souls on Mars.
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MisSpelt
Allow me present to you the hysterical tale of attar, the redolence from Mr. Fitzgerald’s loom room that gingers my soul. Just a gleam and my mind ran back to Elizabeth, Beth's queen of the ring. The feeling I get on reaching a myrrh stuffed scene. For a thousand years, a thousand souls can’t estimate my consanguinity with cassia.
By Fred Musoke4 years ago in Poets
The steps to losing a child
Step One: Lose a child. Not what anyone wants to happen and nothing you can do to change it, but you can go through steps to becoming happy again. You can go through steps to loving again. You can go through steps to become a new you because after losing a child you will never be the same person you once were.
By Tabitha Hinkley6 days ago in Fiction
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