How is it
That I am free
When I am alone,
To rant & rave
To ride a wave
Unhinged by any flaw?
When in a flash
Of just her ghost
I cannot even breathe,
Or twitch or stride
Or talk or glide
Or rise up to the need,
For me to be
As wild and free
As when I am alone?
To joke & cheer
To pry without fear
A shred of the unknown?
How is it she
As luck would be
A mystery of sorts,
That chains & binds
& traps, confines
my freedom alone?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nicely done. The ending is really powerful. A ten for sure! -Michael