Monday, February 28, 2005

Sitting silently upon my childhood swings
Watching the butterfiles pop out of the ground
fluttering around the bars of my life
A beautiful array of colours
twisting and turning in the dazzling sunlight
Each one is a memory: past and faded.
Rising to the milky sky above.
I'm longing to be free
Held here: is this what my life has become?

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