The Garbo In Me Poem by Mary Champion
The Garbo In Me
No hiding place, no sanctuary I own,
living in a fish bowl
when I want to be alone.
No refuge from demands I cannot meet,
no haven for my heart,
no welcoming retreat.
No perfect playground where I can be free.
No native island where I can be me.
Thursday, February 20, 2025
Topic(s) of this poem: fish,solitude
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8/29/2026 2:51:17 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
