All my friends know several aspects about me
The weaver, the horsewoman that my singing is a catastrophe!
Though a few have giggled at ditites written The poet within remains well hidden
The weaver, the horsewoman that my singing is a catastrophe!
Though a few have giggled at ditites written The poet within remains well hidden
LETTING GO
Oh fickle wayward soul,no rules will be followed.
No heed paid to rational thought.
Break away, be free.
No sense of preservation,no coping strategy devised,
Shackled in darkness, writhing in mire.
Raise wings and take flight.
It's all my own making the twisted gut ache.
Ignored cries of forlorn spirit, desperate, be free.
Fly to the light.
A choice can be made, strategy devised
I have the keys, I can undo the binds.
Free spirit.
SOAR!
Cyndi Graham©2006