Crops Poem by Jennifer Beauge

There are fields outside
Crops outside that I dare not tend to
I dare not pass by
Dare not touch
Brush their sleeves of leather
Stroke the spikes of their well cut tops
As a junky's head
Waving at my window
Waltzing with the wind in hope to scare me
Knocking on the glass calling to me
Daunting me to approach
The crops go miles
My fears run miles
I seek escape in the middle of nowhere
From this maze in my brain