Trapped

 

 

I’m trapped
like a lizard in an oily jar
all my desperate scrabbling
useless
gets me nowhere
no further
I remain in place
slumped against the wall
driven to do another circuit of the maze
daring to think this time
it may be different
this time there may be a hidden turn
a door unnoticed
 a passage overlooked
wishing to drink and alice-like
shrink and slide through a crevice
understanding why a sparrow
batters itself against the bars
seeking any magic
light or dark
that may help
that may work
to free me
@jayetomas2013
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About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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