Where do I really belong?
Is it somewhere in a demented fantasy
or false facet in space?
I've come too far to waste a bountiful hunt
and magistrate an optical illusion.
Too many thunderous places to catch
and far from a rustic cage... I do go.
Away, far away are my feelings of doubt.
But where do they lead me?
It's not always the pretty side of the plains.
Copyright 02-02-2009 Sarah Sisson
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem