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This poem cant really be summarised, it has to be read in full.


Submitted:Dec 4, 2009    Reads: 132    Comments: 1    Likes: 1   


Sitting alone, in my own private world,

where no-one can find me, no troubles can hurt me,

my own special place, where my dreams are unfurled,

The dreams that can carry me through air and through sea.

.

.

How i wish you could be here, in this place that is mine,

oh the things we could do, oh the things we could share,

in this place with the hills, topped with oak and with pine,

but it cannot be, for only i can go there.

.

.

My place, my haven, my refuge, my mind,

the place i escape to when im tired of whats real,

whenever im scared, then its here i can find,

the solace and comfort that no-one can steal.

.

.

Sometimes there are others, in my special place,

all shouting and wailing, invading my thoughts,

but all these invaders, they all share my face,

my soul is in conflict, my place is the courts.

.

.

This place that is mine, the land for my dreams,

the place of my soul, the place where i'm free,

it is often left in pieces by my bodies inward screams,

For this place is a sanctuary, and a prison just for me.





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