Poem - Confines
Idea came from a bathroom with a low ceiling….
I long for nothing more than confines.
No longer will a tether do.
Four walls, a low ceiling, a lock and perhaps even a key I can lose.
A light that will probably blow, a dull thud from somewhere outside and thick dust that hangs in the air.
I need that limitation.
I need the controllable.
An environment so manageable, a world defined.
But, it can not be.
So I must play my role.
Reach out, step out.
