Puzzle Peace Is?

In a room of my own
I lead pain to an escape route
I sit firmly on my thighs
knees burn tight from Tunisian threads


Galactic energetic flows as comforts arise
the moon moves from each window
and I still can’t decide


Is it music or poetry or civil rights that I love?
how I envy those who courageously make their minds up
The years come through but I never get enough
 anything I touch turns from actions to ashen dust


Enough, enough, enough, enough, I say!
Already I’ve played by night to sun day
and still I don’t know enough, I know less!
More rage and confusion that my conscious can digest 
now give me a break, but not too long
i’ll grow weary of comfort and search first signs of frost

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.