Stephanie L. Amos

(Pinson, AL, USA)

My Dark Room

My dark room, I'm in a place I should feel safe;
Why do I long to escape from fear I do not understand?
Wanting to be okay, telling myself I can. In my mind, I walk through a meadow of flowers;
Stopping to smell their sweet aroma, hoping it will
Heal this stress, of the death that is bound to rest;
Rest, why should it? I'm not dead, neither are you; But, your presence is gone, so why do we both hurt
And long, long to change the things we made so wrong? Wrong, wrong to others

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