Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Slaves Of Freedom Comments
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I was a braid of cotton's fur, light enough and ready to rise to hundreds of miles;
Yet stood stranded by heaviness to rise higher, I was moved by wishes beguile.
I fumbled for my brother's arms and got hold of many, yet none complete;
Carved a tomb of their false love, I was living my dreams, but a life obsolete.
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7/29/2025 5:21:38 PM # 1.0.0
u r a great poet within. more should come from you. clear thoughts, clear words, a clean poem. Try reading mine