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Moving Out



I'm a closeted poet. LOL. I write horrible poems in my journal, but I wrote something last night that you might find worthwhile. It's just something that's been on my mind for a while now. Anyway, enough rambling. Here it is.

Moving Out

My shackles are made of blood,

Staining my body with utter despair,

And my voice is gone,

Roaming the earth with a call for help.

Surrender would have been easy,

But my spirit has wings that long for flight.

The sky calls for me,

But I am bound with shackles of blood.

My eyes are dry

For the tears have long since claimed their freedom.

Now I am just a shell

Of dreams of rainbows and a bright blue sky.

A night will come when eyes would be unseeing,

And I will escape and fly where the light is.

I will bathe myself with newfound tears of joy,

And wash all the blood that shackles me.


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Hey Rad, please submit that to the Poetry Corner at AD and to those wacky guys over at Codey's World. I think both places would like to post your poem.You're also welcome to enter it at both forums, AD and CW, in their poetry sections.You should write poetry more often. :)

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The rhyme and meter and word meanings would change some (or a lot), but you might try writing it in Tagalog, then translating into a close approximation in English. Just a suggestion to see what happens.

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