— a poem of potpourris.
Free At Last!
But I’m still adjusting!
Golden butterflies fluttered here and there
A flock of sunflowers standing proudly tall
Aureate stretch as far as the eyes can see
Equally bright as the mighty rays of the sun.
I do not wish to tarnish its beauty
but my thoughts are spilling uncontrollably
my head, they’re indeed too heavy
my ghosts, they’re hauntingly filling.
I let my form embrace the vast field, soon after
frailty burst through my minute openings
I let out an ear-splitting roar that slit through the clouds,
the sycamore’s leaves and passerines flew to sanctuary.
Golden butterflies flitted in front of my eyes
scared to death of the bellowing blare
I care not for I’d soon become them
a free creature at last, from the grasp of puppeteers.
Do not mind me in the slightest;
This great sense of freedom that’s now my own to relish,
I’ve missed this.
