Friday, June 21, 2013

Confined


I can hear the wind whistling
I can hear the rain's rhyme
I can hear the the birds chirping
I can imagine the trees swaying
In the midst of the mundane
I am confined
Confined in the arms of monotony

I want to feel the whistling wind
I want to feel the rain
I want to see the chirping birds
I want to see the swaying trees
I want no longer to be confined
I want to be free
From the confines of the inevitable
The inevitable monotony

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