Bars Of Her Cot Poem by Job Laz

In there she laid,
Clapping her tender hands in innocence,
Knowing not
The snare that lay wait for her

In there she sang her songs
Spoke a language known to none
Whining the melody of her bliss,
For the world about her reach seem spacious to her still eyes,
That tells nothing but her imbued joy,

In there she sat
Sketching out her thought
Painting deftly her dreams like a priceless work of art,
Her spirit yearn for nobody but the tranquility of her state,

Speechless, she finally sits
Communing with the frames that stood,
To hold her arms, touch her chin
Making her laugh out with poise,

These were the tales of her days.