As I look up in the sky
My eyes are blinded by the glare
The sun makes it harsh for you and I
The warmth and comfort no longer there.
They decide for us,
No making of our own volition
No strength, no fuss
Can the heart take this condition?
If ever there was relief
It would rise up and dissipate
Stranded, spread on a rocky reef
My mind shouts to vacate
The unknown desire
That took hold by surprise
It had flown under the wire
And grew by size
Will my heart ever have a home?
What comfort would be.
About the Creator
Michele Montague Witte
I am a native from Missouri who has lived and worked in the Middle East for four years. I will be publishing my first children's book this year and am writing new ones. I love to garden and write in my spare time.
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Who are you
Erica struggled in her sleep, tossing, and turning, as she waged a literal war in her brain, her dream came alive so vividly, but she was completely in control of the wicked masterpiece unfolding in her slumber. The killer in her first three dreams had turned into a talking barn owl that had much to say about how Erica was living her life. She was not doing anything wrong, per se, but she was not exactly excelling, either.
By Michele Montague Witte4 years ago in Fiction
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