The wicked wire fence and the blood smear,
Threaten silently, predict my future exists here.
To wonder- Is there an alternate?
Black ink and blank pages alone, alleviate
Make way for hollow thoughts, mere
ghostly windowpane reflections, not quite mirror.
What a path I’ve begun
My sentences start to run
Unimaginable speed, beyond the paper lies
The places I long to be, my heart flies
Leaps into the unknown, cries
In hope and memory of brighter skies
sinking into prediction, barred
All our afternoons with sunlight marred.