Sometimes I think that I must live without
My ears.
The slops of words just flow into this downspout.

Sometimes I dream that I must live without
My eyes.
The loathsome things just settle on this hangout.

My nose, mouth… The ineffective stuff.
My fingers would be quite enough
For my escape from this dull jail.
God bless you, monsieur Louis Braille!

© All rights reserved 2014

GUEST POST // Towers of Canaries by Field of thorns

A room with no window,
a room with no door.
One foot in, one foot out,
both my feet, flat on the floor.

A train of thought running,
each and every day.
I am the prisoner of this tower,
that stands but five foot two.

Currently, I love my captivity,
since the alternative maybe rather bleak.
I pass the days, hour by hour,
like all the other lovely towers.

We are all just a crowd of towers,
like a forest full of trees.
I feel like a canary in a mineshaft,
in this tower that belongs to me.

Upon release from captivity,
my tower will be just am empty cage.
Farewell to my fellow towers,
as I soar and fly away.

© All rights reserved 2014