I slid with brittle bones along a pitch black tunnel ,
twisting, rolling, writing in a sea of tar.
Vapors hot and sticky
taunt my nose as
thoughts of orange red sunsets, silver streams, and pale blue moonlights catalyze this final push to freedom.
Here I am, scrawny innocent, squeezed like toothpaste from a tube into a world of frozen panic.
Big Brother cameras snooping everywhere, CCTV stalkers.
Wolves in human form that tell us all to fly a kite.
Watchtowers, dormant daylight czars who censor skylines, giant concrete slabs that scar the heavens.
In my natural quest for freedom have I swooped one form of jailer for another?
No reviews yet.