I have said so much even hurts,
But there's one thing I now understand-
There were times those were only words,
Mind on fire, not soul sent.
I have put the bird in a cage,
Grew a garden and turned on bright light.
Feasts delicious that stopped the age
It was given all days and nights.
Bird would sing me the sweetest song,
And its voice would be calm and pure:
Fields of flowers that rain and sun long,
Trees of fruit that all wounds cure...
Freedom
© Copyright: Ира Орлик, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115011910392
Свидетельство о публикации №115011910392
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