WAITING.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
tHE TAUNTING OF KEYS.

Submitted: December 16, 2006

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Submitted: December 16, 2006

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DAYS WITHOUT PURPOSE,
NIGHTS FILLED WITH LONELINESS.
I SIT IN PATIENT SOLITUDE.
MUCH THE WAY A SOLDIER AWAITS WAR.
WHAT I AWAIT IS MY FREEDOM.
MY CAPTORS KEYS, TO RELEASE THESE LOCKS.
ALLOWING ME ONCE AGAIN,
TO FEEL MY QUEENS ARMS.
I WONDER IF THEN THE TEARS WILL FINALLY FALL.
WILL ALL THE WEAKNESS I REFUSED TO SHOW,
COME POURING OUT IN ONE LAST SOB.
WILL THE STRENGTH OF MY LEGS,
WHICH NEVER BENT IN SUBMISSION,
FINALLY BUCKLE.
LEAVING ME TO BOW BEFORE THE ONLY
ANGLE I'VE EVER KNOWN.
LEAVING ME TO KNEEL AT THE FEET OF MY QUEEN.
DAYS WITHOUT PURPOSE,
NIGHTS FILLED BY THE LONELINESS.
THEY PASS BY ME, I REACH OUT,
CATCHING MEMORIES THAT ARE TRYING TO
EXCAPE ME.
HOLDING DEAR THESE REMEMBERANCES,
PREVENTING MY CAPTOR,
FROM INSTITUTIONALIZING MY MIND AS WELL.
I HEAR THEIR KEYS,
TAUNTING ME.
BUT LIKE A SOLDIER I WAIT,
IN PATIENT SOLITUDE.
WAITING TO SMELL THE AIR,
AROMATIC,
WITH THE SCENT OF FREEDOM.
AND YES OF CORSE,
THE HEAVENLY SCENT,
OF MY QUEENS FLESH...... 
 
 
 
 
POWER TO THOSE WHO DO NOT FEAR FREEDOM!!!!!! 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


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